.      -  ■  


OF  THE 


U  N I VERS  I T Y 
Of  ILLINOIS 

SI  3 


BOOKSTACKS 


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sponsible for  its  return  to  the  library  from 
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UNIVERSITY  OF   ILLINOIS  LIBRARY  AT  URB  ANA-CHAMPAIGN^ 


DEC  1 5 1973 


L16l__O-1096 


I 


I 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
URBANA 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


MARY  G.  DARLING. 

AUTHOR  OF  "IN  THE  WORLD,"  ETC. 


Illustrated. 


"  He  tliat  ruletli  hit>  spirit  io  better  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 


BOSTON 
LEE  AND  SHEPARD  PUBLISHERS 

CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM  NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  1. 
A  Plan,  and  some  Talk  about  it.     .  , 

CHAPTER  II. 
Watchwords,  and  a  Roadside  Campaign. 

CHAPTER  III. 
Lakeside  Hill,  up  stairs  and  down.  . 

CHAPTER  IV. 

LlLLIE  D ALTON  


CHAPTER  V. 
Thanksgiving  and  the  Doings  of  the  "  J.  G.  T." 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  first  Foreign  Letter  


g  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE  VII. 
Prissy's  Story  abjut  "  Old  Times."  119 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  Merry  Christmas  in  Spite  of  a  broken  Leg.      .      .  135 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Bob's  Balloon  Story  • 

CHAPTER  X. 

180 

Arthur's  Friend,  Steve  Lenox.  

CHAPTER  XI. 
A  Siege,  in  which  Arthur  surrenders  193 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Bob's  Battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself  in  them.        •  210 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

227 

About  both  Love  and  War  

CHAPTER  XIV. 

949 

Rockedge.  —  Geoffrey's  Adventure  

CHAPTER  XV. 

070 

War  News  


CONTENTS. 


7 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Clouds  lift  a  little.  • 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Coming  Home  • 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Sun  shines,  and  the  Rain-drops  glitter. 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
«  All's  well  that  ends  well."    •      •  • 


a  • 


286 


300 


310 


320 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 

"  S~~\  DEAR,  what  a  long,   stupid  afternoon!" 

\J  sighed  Geoffrey  Stanley,  turning  away  from 
the  window,  out  of  which  he  had  been  disconsolate- 
ly gazing,  towards  the  bright,  fire-lit  room,  where 
his  brothers  were  sitting.  "And  where  have  papa 
and  mamma  been  all  this  time?  I  wonder  why 
they  are  shut  up  so  much  lately,  talking  by  them- 
selves ! " 

"I  think  I  know  why,"  said  his  twin-brother 
Jimmie,  raising  his  eyes  for  a  minute  from  the 
book  which  he  was  comfortably  perusing,  lying  flat 
on  his  back  on  the  hearth-rug. 

"Tell  me,  then,"  said  Geoffrey,  curiously,  quite 

(9> 


jq  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

forsaking  the  window,  where,  indeed,  nothing  very 
pleasant  was  to  be  seen,  for  the  dull  November 
afternoon  was  closing  in  with  a  heavy,  plashing 
rain,  as  dreary  here  in  the  brick  streets  of  the 
city  as  in  the  muddy  country  roads.  "Tell  me, 
Jiml"  And  he  pressed  up  to  the  fire,  before 
which  Jimmiewas  lying,  and  over  the  bright  coals 
of  which  Bob  was  popping  corn  for  little  Lillie, 
who  sat  beside  him. 

"Why,  I  think,"  said  Jimmie,  in  his  grave,  med- 
itative way,  "that  papa  has  been  thinking  for  a 
long  time  over  something  that  worries  him;  and 
now  he  wants  to  have  mamma  all  to  himself  to- 
night, so  that  they  can  get  it  nicely  settled  between 
them  before  they  tell  us  children." 

«  But  that  isn't  telling  me  what  it  is,"  said  Geof- 
frey, discontentedly.  "Now  you  know  what  it  is, 
Bob,  I'm  sure;  I  see  you  smiling  to  yourself  over 
your  corn-popper.    Now  don't  you  ?  " 

"Well,  I  know  as  much  as  Jimmie  has  said," 
replied  Bob,  critically  surveying  his  corn  through 
the  wires  of  the  popper;  "and  perhaps  I  can  guess 
a  little  move." 
"0,  what?" 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


11 


"Take  care,  Bob,"  said  Arthur,  the  eldest  brother, 
glancing  up  from  the  drawing  he  was  finishing  so 
carefully;  "papa  hasn't  said,  you  know,  that  we 
might  tell  his  plans  yet." 

"He  certainly  hasn't  said  that  we  mightn't  tell 
what  we  think  his  plans  are  —  has  he?"  said  Bob, 
a  little  hotly. 

Arthur's  "No"  sounded  rather  reluctant  and  un- 
gracious; but,  as  he  said  no  more,  and  bent  his 
head  down  over  his  drawing  again,  Bob  turned  to 
his  younger  brothers. 

"Well,  then,  Jeff,  (there,  Pussy,  there  are  some 
fine  big  fellows  for  you!)  I  think  that  Jim  is 
right  in  saying  that  papa  has  been  worrying  over 
something,  and  it  is  just  this  :  he  hasn't  been  well, 
—  we  can  all  see  that,  —  and  I  rather  fancy  there 
is  some  talk  of  his  going  away  this  winter ;  that's 
what  he  is  talking  about  with  mamma." 

"Go  away,  and  not  take  us?"  said  Geoffrey,  a 
little  dolefully. 

Bob  gave  a  short,  good-natured  laugh.  "  I  guess 
not,  Jeff'!  You  know  it  would  cost  a  lot  to  take 
such  a  pack  of  young  ones.  And  I  rather  think, 
if  papa  is  going  away,  it's  because  he  is  sent;  he'd 


12  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

never  think  he  had  enough  money  to  spend  any. 
thing  on  himself!" 

"Now,  Bob,  I'm  sure  that  you  are  saying  what 
you  oughtn't,"  said  Arthur,  raising  his  head  again. 
« If  you  heard  what  old  Mr.  Merton  —  " 

"I  didn't  hear!"  said  Bob,  rather  angrily;  "I 
don't  listen  on  stairs!" 

«Mr.  Merton  has  a  very  loud  voice,"  quietly  sug- 
gested Jimmie  from  the  hearth-rug.  Jimmie  was 
always  the  little  peacemaker  between  his  elders,— 
the  smoother-away  of  any  little  roughnesses  which 
Arthurs  superiority  of  tone  and  love  of  dictating, 
and  Bob's  hot  temper,  might  bring  up. 

"So  he  has,  young  one!"  said  Bob,  accepting 
the  suggestion  with  another  of  his  good-humored 
little  laughs.    "So  I  beg  your  pardon,  Arty." 

«  And  I  rather  think  we  shall  know  about  papa's 
plans  at  first  hand  before  long,"  said  Arthur,  who, 
not  candid  enough  to  own  himself  in  the  wrong, 
as  his  brother  had  done,  yet  contrived  to  convey, 
in  his  more  gracious  tone,  an  intimation  that  he 
was  mollified.  "  After  such  a  long  talk  he  will 
certainly  get  his  plans  settled,  and  I  am  sure  ho 
will  be  anxious  enough  then  to  tell  us  all." 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


13 


Arthur  had  the  rare  tact  of  saying  the  right  thing 
at  the  right  time,  and  this  happy  suggestion  had 
a  good  effect  in  calming  the  curiosity  of  his  younger 
brothers;  no  more  surmises  on  the  subject  were, 
heard.    Geoffrey  repeated  once  more  his  discon- 
solate "And  shall  we  really  be  left  behind?"  then 
interested  himself  with  Bob  and  his  little  sister 
in  the   corn-popping.    Arthur  went   on  with  his 
drawing,  Jimmie  with  his  book,  and  the  snapping 
of  the  corn  was  the  chief  thing  heard  in  the  snug 
room.    And  now  suppose  we  take  advantage  of 
the  momentary  stillness,  and  have  a  peep  at  the 
four  boys  and  their  little  sister.    It  is  a  pleasant, 
cosy  room  where  they  are  sitting,  though  the  carpet 
and  chairs  are  not  a  bit  too  good  for  use  and  com- 
fort.   If  Mr.  Stanley  has  no  money  for  himself, 
nor,  indeed,  for  many  luxuries,  he  has  at  least  the 
faculty  of  making  a  little  go  a  great  way  ;  and  the 
books  on  the  tables  and    in  the  cases,  and  the 
pictures  on  the  wall,  do  more  to  make  the  room 
attractive,  than   if   it  were  much  more  elegantly 
furnished. 

Arthur,  just  now  putting  the  finishing  touches 
to  his  crayon  head,  is  a  boy  of  perhaps  fifteen. 


14 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


He  has  a  good  figure,  and  a  refined,  handsome 
face ;  and  though  I  think  he  knows  these  facts  too 
well,  his  satisfaction  with  his  own  outside  perhaps 
helps  to  make  his  manner  and  bearing  so  graceful 
and  easy.  Arthur  has  always  been  accustomed  to 
hear  himself  cafJed  "a  perfect  little  gentleman," 
and  the  habit  his  brothers  have  of  always  relying 
on  Arthur's  manner  of  saying  and  doing  a  thing, 
as  the  right  way,  has  perhaps  given  him  too  much 
the  same  idea  himself.  You  will  say  that  he  must 
be  very  conceited ;  perhaps  so ;  but  I  mean  to  let 
you  find  out  his  faults,  and  only  tell  you  his  good 
points.  I  have  said  that  he  is  a  little  too  fond  of 
dictating,  especially  to  his  brother  Bob;  but  he 
has  a  sweet  temper  and  a  really  kind  heart,  while 
his  quickness  in  seeing  and  supplying  other  peo- 
ple's little  wants  makes  him  very  lovable.  But 
mind,  that  is  not  saying  he  is  generous  ! 

Bob,  a  year  his  junior,  is  very  unlike  him.  He 
is  short,  and  rather  squarely  built,  with  broad 
shoulders,  and  brown  hands,  that  look  like  base 
ball.  Bob  is  not  handsome  ;  he  has  only  a  pair  of 
bright  brown  eyes,  which  always  look  at  you  very 
frankly  and  fearlessly,  and  sometimes  very  earnestly 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOxME  TALK  ABOUT  IT.  15 

and  thoughtfully.  Bob  is  a  queer  boy ;  and  though 
his  schoolmates,  who  play  cricket  and  football  with 
him,  and  call  him  a  jolly,  merry  fellow,  think  they 
know  him,  they  are  very  much  mistaken  if  they 
think  he  is  only  that.  Bob  is  shy  and  sensitive, 
and  very  often  has  thoughts  he  would  not  utter  to 
any  one ;  perhaps  he  could  not  put  them  into  words 
himself.  The  truth  is,  that  with  all  his  hearty  man- 
ner and  his  perfect  openness,  he  is  reserved,  and 
keeps  a  great  deal  of  his  best  part  to  himself. 
Never  mind ;  it  will  come  out  some  day !  Bob 
has  a  hot  temper,  as  we  have  seen  just  now  in  his 
talk  with  his  brother;  but  he  is  so  generous  and 
honest  that  he  is  ready  to  ask  pardon  for  hasty 
words  almost  as  soon  as  they  have  left  his  lips. 
Strangers  do  not  always  like  Bob ;  they  are  rather 
apt  to  think  him  blunt  and  rough,  and  to  contrast 
.him  with  Arthur,  who  is  always  so  graceful,  gentle, 
and  polite ;  but  we  know  that  one's  true  qualities 
do  not  all  show  on  the  outside,  and  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  one  who  sees  Bob  as  he  is  now  with  his 
little  sister,  would  think  his  roughness  went  very 
deep ;  to  Lillie  and  to  his  mother  he  is  alwaya 
gentle. 


|g  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

As  for  the  twins,  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey,  they  are 
about  as  much  of  a  contrast  as  they  can  well  be. 
They  are  nine  years  old,  and  that  is  almost  all 
the  likeness  between  them.    Jimmie  is  thin,  and 
rather  pale,  with  big,  dark  eyes,  and  a  thought- 
ful  face.    He  likes  reading  and  studying,  and  Bob 
calls  him  the  «  little  grandfather,"  he  has  such  an 
old-fashioned  way  of  talking  to  them  all.  Every 
one,  even  Arthur,  will  take  a  reproof  from  Jimmie 
sooner  than  from  any  one  else.    He  is  so  gentle, 
and  so  perfectly  unconscious  of  any  virtues  or  good 
qualities  he  may  possess,  that  every  one  loves  him; 
and  when  Jimmie  is  praised  or  rewarded,  every 
one  else  feels  as  if  he  had  a  share  in  it.  Nobody 
thinks  of  Jimmie  as  of  the  same  age  with  Geoffrey, 
he  seems  so  much  like  his  elder  brother;  he  helps 
him  in  his  lemons, -Geoffrey  is  tar  behind  mm 
there,  _  or  sometimes  gravely  reasons  with  him, 
when  Geoffrey  is  capricious  or  captious ;  and  Geof- 
frey always  depends  on  Jimmie  in  matters  where 
wisdom  and  judgment  come  into  play.    It  is  very 
funny  to  see  these  relations  between  two  boys  of 
exactly  the  same  age;  but  I  think  their  affection 
is  quite  as  strong  as  if  they  were  more  like  most 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


17 


twins.  Geoffrey  is  one  of  the  children  everybody 
calls  a  "little  beauty,"  and  everybody  tries  to  spoil. 
He  has  bright  blue  eyes,  curly  hair,  and  a  roguish, 
laughing  face.  Up  to  any  mischief,  it  is  fortunate 
that  he  has  Jimmie's  wise  little  head  to  steady  him  ; 
fortunate,  too,  that  he  has  a  very  sensible  father 
and  mother,  or,  with  the  universal  petting  he  re- 
ceives, he  might  be  very  soon  actually  spoiled;  as 
it  is,  he  is  sometimes- wayward  and  capricious. 

As  for  little  Lillie,  the  only  girl  in  the  Stanley 
family,  she  is  but  live  years  old,  and  rather  too 
young  to  have  enough  character  for  description. 
Of  course,  as  the  youngest  and  the  only  sister,  she 
is  a  great  pet  with  all  her  brothers ;  I  think  Bob 
is  her  favorite  among  them,  though  they  are  all 
disposed  to  show  her  their  best  side. 

But  my  boy-friends  have  been  sitting  very  patient- 
ly for  their  portraits,  and  boys,  we  know,  never  do 
sit  still  long  at  a  time.  Besides,  just  at  this  moment 
the  study  door  is  opened,  and  Mr.  Stanley  looks  m 
at  the  group,  saying,  with  a  smiling  face,  — 

"Well,  what  have  you  been  doing  all  the  after- 
noon, children?    You  have  been  quiet  as  mice." 

fr  But   we  arc  very  tired  of  being  quiet,  papa." 
2 


18  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

exclaimed  Geoffrey,  rushing  to  the  door  to  pull 
him  in. 

"And  now  you've  come  to  tell  us  all  about  it  — 
haven't  you?" 

"About  what,  my  little  man?" 
«  Why,  Ave  think  mamma  and  you  have  a  plan, 
and  we  all  want  to  know  what  it  is.    You've  come 
to  tell  us,  I  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Stanley,  "we  want  to  have  a 
talk  with  you  all,  boys." 

"  Wait  just  one  minute,  then,"  said  Bob,  jumping 
up  from  his  footstool  on  the  hearth-rug,  and  wheel- 
ing a  great  arm-chair  to  the  fire  ;  "  this  is  for  mam- 
ma"—for  Mrs.  Stanley  had  entered  the  room  behind 
her  husband.  Arthur  brought  the  stool  for  her  feet, 
and  Geoffrey  perched  on  the  arm  of  her  chair ;  Bob 
sat  down  on  the  rug,  cross-legged  like  a  Turk; 
Jimmie  kept  his  recumbent  posture,  but  laid  his 
head  on  his  mother's  footstool;  and  Mr.  Stanley 
being  settled  in  another  chair,  with  Lillic  on  his 
knee,  and  Arthur  leaning  on  the  chair-back,  they 
were  all,  as  the  latter  suggested,  "in  comfortable 

talking  trim." 

"  Not."  continued  Arthur,  "that  we  haven't  all  of 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


19 


THE  PLAN. 


us  some  idea  of  what  you  are  going  to  tell  us ;  " 
for  both  father  and  mother  looked  so  grave  that 
everybody  felt  it  incumbent  on  him  to  make  a 
beginning:. 

"Well,  then,"  said  his  father,  "suppose  I  ask  the 
nature  of  your  impressions  ;  and  you,  little  Wise- 
head,  begin."  He  playfully  "stirred  up"  the  re- 
cumbent Jimmie  with  his  foot, 

"  It  was  not  I  alone,  papa,"  said  Jimmie,  turning 


20 


BATTLES  AT  HOJIE. 


over  so  as  to  lift  his  face  up  to  his  father's;  "but 
we  all  have  seen  for  some  time  that  you  did  not 
look  well,  and  that  you  sometimes  were  very  pale 
and  tired-looking  when  you  got  up  in  the  pulp*  to 
preach,  and  your  voiee  sounded  weak,  and  as  d  the 
sermon  was  hard  work.  I  said  this  to  Geoffrey, 
and  Bob  said  he  thought  you  and  mamma  were 
talking  of  going  away  for  this  winter." 

«  Smite  up,  mamma!"  whispered  Geoffrey,  bend- 
in.  down  from  his  high  perch  on  the  arm  of  the  chair 
to  stroke  his  mother's  grave  face.  It  was  one  of 
Jimmie's  loving  baby  speeches,  which  had  become 
a  by-word  with  the  children  whenever  their  mother 
looked  sad  or  anxious. 

"All  very  right  so  far,"  said  Mr.  Stanley,  speak- 
in,  brightly  ;  and  as  to  the  sermons  being  hard 
work,  Jimmie,  I  am  afraid  not  only  preachmg,  but 
a,i    my  duties  have  been  very  poorly  performed 

of  late."  .  , 

«  I'm  not,"   growled  Bob,  with  his  hand  over 

his  mouth. 

„  rn  ,ive  you  an  illustration,  Bob,"  said  Ins 
father,  quietly.  "Did  you  ever  notice  an  cng.no 
just   approaching   the  station,   when   the  steam 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


2! 


pressure  is  slackened,  and  perhaps  the  fuel  is  low, 
how  it  puffs  and  pants,  and  makes  such  noise  and 
effort  over  what  is,  after  all,  just  the  same  work 
it  has  been  doing  easily  a  few  minutes  before  ? 
Now,  that  is  just  the  way  with  me.  This  work, 
which  is  the  very  same  I  have  been  doing  and 
loving  to  do  all  my  life,  has  been  gradually  grow- 
ing hard  to  me  ;  and  now  I  find  myself  straining 
over  it  like  the  slackened  engine,  and,  after  all, 
doing  it  very  slowly  and  haltingly.  So  my  friends 
have  been  persuading  me  that  I  have  got  run  down, 
and  that  I  need  to  go  away  and  get  some  fresh 
fuel  to  start  again  with." 

"Why  don't  you  go  away  right  off,  then?"  said 
Bob,  speaking  very  gruffly,  and  winking  hard  at 
the  fire. 

"Because,  my  hasty  Bob,"  said  his  father,  smil- 
ing, "  there  are  several  things  to  be  considered  first. 
Suppose  I  were  going  away  from  you  all  to-mor- 
row ;  whom  do  you  think  I  should  be  most  sorry 
to  leave  ?  " 

"  Mamma,"  said  Jimmie. 

"Exactly;  and  if  I  were  to  go  away  by  myself, 
feeling  sick,  to  begin  with,  I  am  afraid  I  should  not 


22  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

get  any  great  benefit,  even  from  an  Italian  climate, 
or  grow  better  very  fast,  if  I  were  to  think  of  leav- 
ing mamma  behind  me,  anxious  and  unhappy  B,,t 
what  do  you  think,  Geoffie?  When  a  person  offers 
you  one  present,  do  you  generally  ask  for  two 
more  r 

"I  wish  one  could!"  said  Geoffrey;  "but  who 
gives  you  any  present,  papa?" 
'  "Why,  all  the  church  people  give  me  this  pres- 
ent of  going  away  to  Europe.    You  know,  Geoffrey, 
there  are  too  many  chickens  in  this  house,  and  quite 
too  many  outside  of  it,  for  any  one  of  us  to  spend 
a  very  great  deal  on  himself  alone.    So  I  should 
never  have  thought  of  going  to  Europe,  if  my 
friends  had  not  told  me  this  little  story  about  the 
engine,  and  offered  me  something  with  which  to 
lay  in  a  fresh  stock  of  wood  and  coal.    What's  the 
matter,  Arthur?" 

Arthur  had  changed  his  position  a  little  uneasily, 

and  now  stood  drumming  with  his  fingers  on  the 

back  of  his  father's  chair. 

"Not  much,  papa,"  he  said,  coloring ;  "only  I  do 

wish  we  were  rich  enough  to  do  things  for  ourselves  ; 

I  don't  like  taking  favors  and  making  no  return  1 " 


A  PLAN,   AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT.  23 

"And  doesn't  papa,  I  should  like  to  know  !  "  said 
Bob,  indignantly.  "  Now,  I  think  that  all  this  time 
it  is  he  who  has  been  doing  the  favors  for  other 
people  —  working  for  them  in  a  great  many  ways 
he  doesn't  get  paid  for.  And,  after  all,  when  they 
send  him  away,  it  isn't  for  himself  they  do  it,  but 
just  because  he  has  used  himself  up  for  them,  and 
they  want  him  to  be  able  to  work  for  them  again  ! " 

c'  Not  exactly  so.  Bob,  dear,"  said  his  mother, 
gently,  with  a  hand  on  the  boy's  head;  "but  he  is 
right  to  a  certain  extent,  Arthur,  though  he  is 
speaking  too  excitedly.  I  think,  too,  that  the  obli- 
gation, so  far,  is  on  the  people's  side." 

"  But  what  were  the  other  two  presents  you 
asked  for,  papa?"  said  Geoffrey,  curiously. 

w Not  ashed  for,  Geoffrey;  only  wished  for.  If 
I  were  going  to  Europe,  what  two  people  should  I 
like  best  to  have  with  me,  do  you  think?" 

"  Mamma  and — not  me!"  said  Geoffrey,  wist- 
fully, looking  up  at  his  father  with  a  hopeful  light 
in  his  blue  eyes. 

Mr.  Stanley  half  shook  his  head.  w  /  know," 
said  Jimmie,  softty,  stroking  one  of  his  little  sis- 
ter's shining  curls.  "Lillie." 


24 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Nobody  spoke  for  a  little  while  ;  everybody 
looked  very  grave,  and  Mrs.  Stanley  wiped  away 
the  tears  which  had  gathered  in  her  eyes  at  poor 
Geoffrey's  question.  Presently  Arthur  felt  it  in- 
cumbent on  him  to  say,  in  a  manly,  off-hand  manner, 
rt  And  how  are  you  and  Lillie  going,  mamma?  Who 
is  going  to  give  you  a  present?" 

It  was  another  instance  of  Arthur's  happy  power 
of  saying  seasonable  things,  for  it  enabled  Mrs. 
Stanley  to  look  up  with  a  bright  smile.  "Dear 
grandpapa,"  said  she.    *  While  you  boys  have  been 
sitting  here   together  so  quietly,  grandpapa  and 
orandmamma  have  driven  in  from  Lakeville,  in  all 
this   rain,   and   have   had  a  long   talk   with  us. 
Grandpapa  knows  how  anxious  I  have  been  at  the 
thought  of  having  papa  go  off  sick  and  alone ;  and 
he  has  persuaded  me  to  let  him  send  me  and  Lillie, 
for  a  year,  fto  see  Europe,'  as  he  says,  for  grand- 
mamma and  himself;  they  will  never  go  now.  I 
can't  tell  you,  Arty,  how  much  easier  it  makes  me 
feel,  and  how  anxious  I  am  now  to  have  pupa  get 
off.     If  I  could  only  take  you  all  with  me,  my 
darlings!" 

Arthur  pressed  his  mother's  hand,  and  Bob  looked 


A  PLAN,   AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


25 


up  with  one  of  his  rare,  sweet  smiles,  and 
said,  — 

"  A  year  soon  passes  !  "  then  looked  back  at  the 
fire  very  quickly. 

"  And  what  is  to  become  of  us,  then  ? "  asked 
Geoffrey,  trying  very  hard  to  speak  stoutly,  in  spite 
of  a  quivering  lip. 

"  O,  that  is  part  of  the  plan,  Geoffie  ! "  said  his 
father,  playfully.  "What  do  you  think,  now,  of 
all  four  going  to  live  with  grandpapa,  while  we  are 
away,  trying  f out  of  town'  for  one  winter,  instead 
of  narrow  city  streets  ? " 

"Having  the  hill  to  coast  down,  and  the  lake, 
just  a  stone's  throw  from  the  house,  for  skating !  " 
wisely  put  in  Bob." 

"Pretty  well,"  said  Geoffrey,  hesitating,  while  the 
tell-tale  tear  slowly  detached  itself  from  his  eye- 
lash.   "There'll  be  the  sleighing!" 

"Prissy'll  make  you  a  great  many  doughnuts!" 
said  little  Lillie,  gravely,  from  her  father's  knee. 

"There!"  said  her  father,  laughing;  "and  I  dare 
say  Lillie  thinks  Prissy's  doughnuts  are  better 
worth  haying  than  Italy.    Well,  Jimmie?" 

Jimmie's  tears,  if  he  had  shed  any,  had  been 


2G  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

hidden  in  the  hearth-rug ;  his  little  face,  as  he  raised 
it,  did  not  look  any  graver  than  its  wont. 

"What  are  we  to  do  about  lessons,  when — we 
don't  have  — you?"  — a  manful  struggle  with  the 
lumps  in  his  throat. 

"O,  there's  another  feature  in  the  plan.  Cousin 
Sue  sends  a  particular  request  that  she  may  be 
allowed  to  be  'Jimmie's  and  Geoffrey's  schoolmis- 
tress.' And  she  is  an  instructress,  Jimmie,  who 
won't  be  called  off,  as  papa  is ! " 

« I'd  rather  have  you,  with  all  the  interruptions ; 
but  cousin  Sue  is  very  kind,"  said  Jimmie,  with 
his  habitual  appreciation  of  other  people's  kindness. 

"And  I  foresee  a  treat  for  you,  too,  Jimmie. 
Grandpapa  says  he  thinks  Major  Guy  Dalton  will 
spend  a  good  deal  of  the  winter  at  Lakeside  Hill ; 
you  know  he  came  home  wounded  from  the  war. 
I  am  pretty  sure  you  will  find  another  tutor  there, 
and  one  who  is  very  much  fresher  from  college 
than  papa.    You  will  like  that?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jimmie,  in  a  low  tone.     He  had 
laid  his  cheek  down  on  the  footstool  again,  and  was 
clasping  his  mother's  foot  tightly  with  his  hand. 
"As  for  Arthur  and   Bob,  they  will   come  in 


A  PLAN,  AND  SOME  TALK  ABOUT  IT. 


27 


town  to  school,"  continued  Mr.  Stanley;  it  is  not 
a  long  car-ride,  you  know." 

"It  cuts  up  the  day  a  good  deal,"  said  Arthur, 
"but  it  might  be  worse.  I  dare  say,  too,  Steve 
Lenox  will  ask  me  to  stay  with  him,  and  — 99 

"Well,  we  will  not  elaborate  the  plan  any  more 
just  now,"  said  his  father,  quickly.  "  What  do  you 
say,  Bob?    I  have  not  heard  your  voice." 

"The  picture  has  its  bright  side!"  said  Bob, 
jumping  up,  and  speaking  in  the  off-hand  tone  he 
usually  adopted  when  he  wished  to  conceal  his 
feelings.  "But  what  shall  we  do  without  Pussy 
here?"  tossing  Lillie  up  on  his  shoulder. 

"Even  that  want  is  supplied,"  answered  his  father, 
smiling.  "  Major  Dalton  has  a  little  sister  who  is 
to  be  at  grandpapa's  too;  and,  to  crown  all,  her 
name  is  also  Lillie  ! " 

"But  she  won't  be  the  real,  bona  fide  Pussy- 
cat," said  Bob,  prancing  off  with  the  child  on  his 
shoulder. 

His  father  rose  to  follow  his  lead.  "There  is 
an  old  saying,"  said  he,  brightly,  looking  round 
on  the  sober  young  faces,  "' Let  well  alone.'  And 
so  long  as  the  plan  is  all  told,  suppose  we  don't 


28 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


talk  any  more  about  it  to-night,  but  go  in  to  tea 

 everybody  with  such  a  sunny  face  that  we  shall 

forget  it  is  raining  out  doors." 

The  hint  took  effect,  and  even  the  drawn-down 
corners  of  Geoffrey's  rosy  mouth  broke  into  a 
smile. 


WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN.  29 


CHAPTER  II. 

WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN. 

THEN  decisions  on  matters  long  talked  about 


f  T  are  once  carried  out,  preparations  are  soon 
made  ;  and  it  seemed  hardly  a  day  after  they  had 
first  heard  of  the  plan,  when  the  boys  were  again 
assembled  in  the  study  for  a  last  talk  with  their 
father.  It  was  the  last  Sunday  night;  they  had 
heard  him  preach  to-day  for  the  last  time  in  a 
whole  long  year,  and  with  the  morrow  the  travel- 
lers were  to  start  for  New  York.  The  house  was 
to  be  shut  up;  and  the  boys'  trunks  stood,  with 
those  of  their  parents,  ready  packed,  to  be  moved 
to  Lakeville. 

There  is  a  certain  melancholy  feeling  insepara- 
ble from  the  sight  of  packed  trunks  and  disman- 
tled rooms  ;  so,  though  all  the  boys,  as  well  as 
their  parents,  had  determined  to  keep  up  brave 
hearts  and  bright  faces  in  the  approaching  separa- 


30 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


tion,  nobody  felt  very  much  like  beginning,  when 
they  were  all  gathered  in  the  study  for  their  Sun- 
day evening  talk.  The  silence  was  broken  at  last 
by  Bob's  saying,  suddenly,  as  he  stirred  the  fire 
with  great  energy,  "  What  a  bother  it  is  that  people 
must  be  sick,  and  have  to  give  up  all  their  work  ! 
Don't  you  hate  to  think,  papa,  that  you  shan't 
preach  again  for  a  whole  year?" 

"Perhaps  — if  I  think  about  it,"  said  his  father, 
with  a  smile.  "But  after  all,  Bob,  I  am  not 
going  to  give  up  preaching  if  I  can  help  it. 
Preaching,  you  know,  is  not  all  done  in  pulpits, 
and  I  want  to  preach  every  day  of  my  life  while 
I  am  away,  and  what  is  more,  to  have  you  all 
preach  too." 

w  We,  papa?  How  can  we?"  said  Geoffrey,  the 
questioner. 

«  Why  not  you,  Geoffie,  as  well  as  any  one 
else?  Preaching,  you  know,  is  spreading  abroad 
the  good  tidings.  Now,  there  is  an  old  saying, 
that  'actions  speak  louder  than  words,'  and  that 
is  why  I  say  that  the  best  kind  of  preaching  is  not 
always  done  in  pulpits.  If  we  all  do  our  little 
parts  in   life  as  well,  as   nobly,  as   we  can, —  if 


WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN. 


every  one  of  you  boys  does  all  the  little  kindnesses 
for  others  that  he  can,  speaks  gently  and  lovingly 
always,  and  remembers  to  look  about  him  for  any 
good  that  may  come  in  his  way  to  do,  —  I  think 
he  will  preach  the  good  tidings  quite  as  well  as 
if  I  appointed  him  my  successor  in  the  pulpit. 
And  now  that  we  are  speaking  of  it,  Bob,  I  don't 
think,  after  all,  that  all  the  work  is  being  given 
up.  I  think  we  shall  have,  all  of  us,  some  pretty 
hard  work  to  do  this  winter." 

"I  wish  I  was  old  enough  to  go  to  the  war," 
said  Bob,  vehemently,  dealing  a  hard  blow  with 
the  poker  at  a  big  black  lump  of  coal. 

"  O,  you'll  find  fighting  enough  to  do  at  home," 
said  his  father,  half  laughing.  "  What  is  it,  Jim- 
mie?" 

The  twins  were  sharing  the  great  study  arm- 
chair with  their  father  —  Geoffrey  sitting  up  very 
straight,  and  Jimmie  lying  back,  with  his  head 
on  his  father's  shoulder;  and  just  at  this  moment 
Mr.  Stanley  felt  a  soft  little  hand  unclasp  his  and 
put  into  it  a  small  book. 

"My  little  Bible,"  said  Jimmie,  in  a  whisper. 
"  I  want  you  to  mark  a  great  many  texts  in  it 


32 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


for  me,  so  that  I  shall  be  sure  to  be  good  all  the 
time." 

*  I  will  mark  the  texts  if  you  want,"  said  his 
father,  aloud;  "but,  Jimmie,  dear,  I  don't  think, 
after  all,  that  will  be  the  surest  way  for  you  eto 
be  good,'  as  you  say.  When  everything  goes  on 
smoothly  and  pleasantly  around  us,  being  good  is 
easy  enough  :  the  time  of  trial  is  when  the  tempta- 
tion conies,  and  that  may  be  any  where  —  at  home, 
abroad,  at  school,  at  play.  Now,  suppose  it  comes 
when  you  are  away  from  home,  and  have  left  your 
Bible  shut  up  on  the  table  in  your  room.  I  don't 
believe  the  marked  texts  will  do  you  much  good 
then.  No;  I  want  my  boys  to  have  something 
within  that  shall  help  them  in  their  time  of  trial 
—  inside  their  hearts,  not  within  the  covers  of  any 
book  at  all.  And  that  something  must  be  a  tender 
conscience,  and  an  ear  always  ready  to  listen  to 
what  conscience  says.  But,  since  Bob  wishes  to 
be  a  soldier,  suppose  I  call  you  my  little  sol- 
diers —  my  boy  brigade  —  and  give  you  each 
a  watchword,  in  case  you  have  any  battles  to 
fight." 

"Thrre'H   nobedy  to  figlil   with  bm  ourselvc8,w 


WATCHWORDS,   AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN.  33 


cried  Geoffrey,  looking  up  with  a  little  laugh,  half 
puzzled,  half  triumphant. 

"  You've  hit  it  exactly,  my  little  man,"  said  his 
father,  with  a  smile,  laying  his  hand  on  the  curly 
pate  at  his  elbow;  "those  are  just  the  enemies 
we  fight  with  in  battles  at  home.  Now  then,  Ar- 
thur,  what's  the  first  requisite  for  a  soldier?" 

"  Courage,"  said  Arthur,  conclusively. 

"Then  cultivate  it,  captain." 

"I  didn't  know  I  needed  to,"  said  Arthur,  flush- 
ing a  little. 

"Ah,  but  you  know,  when,  as  Geoffrey  says, 
there's  nobody  to  fight  with  but  ourselves,  courage 
changes  its  nature  a  little,  and  moral  courage  is  a 
thing  we  all  need  to  cultivate  particularly.  Now, 
since  Jimmie  calls,  for  texts,  I'll  give  you  each 
one  that  you  can  carry  about  with  you ;  and  yours, 
Arthur,  shall  be,  'Keep  yourself  unspotted  from 
the  world.'  Remember,  too,  that  the  higher  posi- 
tion and  greater  influence  one  has,  the  more  is 
expected  from  him.  Every  captain,  you  know,  is 
responsible  for  a  hundred  men;  and  you  have  to 
be  an  example  for  others  as  well  as  a  law  to  your- 
self. Will  you  think  of  all  that?" 
3 


34 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


w  I'll  try,"  said  Arthur,  more  humbly  than  his 
wont. 

"As  for  you,  Lieutenant  Bob,"  said  his  father, 
turning  to  him  quickly,  as  if  he  was  afraid  he  should 
say  too  much  to  Arthur,  "  if  it's  fighting  you  want, 
I  have  got  a  watchword  for  you  just  on  the  tip 
of  my  tongue." 

"You  needn't  say  it,"  said  Bob,  in  his  droll, 
abrupt  fashion,  with  a  grimace.  "I  know  what  it 
is:  fHe  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than  he  that 
taketh  a  city.'" 

"Very  well  said,"  replied  Mr.  Stanley,  smiling. 
There  will  certainly  be  no  excuse  for  a  soldier 
who  knows  his  duty  so  well,  and  yet  fails  to  do 
it.  And  besides  that,  Bob,  let  me  remind  you 
that  there  would  never  be  any  peace  in  a  camp  if 
the  officers  were  always  disputing  among  them- 
selves. Only  fancy,  now,  if  a  captain  and  a  lieuten- 
ant were  forever  interfering  with  each  other,  and 
finding  fault  with  the  way  in  which  each  did  his 
particular  duty  ! " 

It  was  quite  evident  that  both  Arthur  and  Bob 
understood  theii  father's  meaning.  Arthur  looked 
up  at  Bob,  with  his  pleasant,  sweet  smile;   but  it 


WATCHWORDS,   AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN.  35 


was  Bob  who  hell  out  his  brown  hand,  and  gave 
his  brothers  a  hearty  grip. 

"  And  now  for  my  little  sergeants,"  continued 
Mr.  Stanley.  "As  for  you,  Jimmie,"  looking  clown 
at  the  little  face  on  his  shoulder,  and  smiling, 
"just  because  you  are  the  one  who  wanted  a  text, 
I  suppose  I  can't  think  of  one  to  suit  your  case 
exactly.  You  will  find  a  text  somewhere  in  your 
Bible  telling  you  not  to  be  'puffed  up  in  your  own 
conceit.'  I  shall  not  mark  that,  because  I  don't 
think  you  will  need  it.  What  I  want  you  to  do 
is  to  get  rid  of  a  little  of  your  self-distrust ;  never 
to  be  puffed  up  or  conceited,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  never  to  undervalue  the  powers  God  has 
given  you.  And  another  thing  —  don't  let  your 
little  mind  be  too 'much  filled  up  with  books.  This 
is  a  real  world  we  live  in,  after  all,  with  real  live 
men  and  women ;  and  though  books  are  excellent 
things,  reading  and  dreaming  are  not  living,  and 
we  need  a  great  deal  of  active  energy  if  we  are 
to  get  through  this  life  satisfactorily." 

Jimmie  kept  his  hand  still  on  his  father's,  and 
Mr.  Stanley  did  not  need  to  ask  him  if  he  would 
remember. 


36 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Now  for  you,  Geoffrey.  If  you  look  in  Paul's 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  you  will  find  a  text 
that  says,  "  When  I  was  a  child,  I  spake  as  a 
child,  I  understood  as  a  child,  I  thought  as  a 
child  ;  but  now  I  am  a  man  I  have  put  away 
childish  things.'  Now,  I  don't  mean  that  Geoffrey 
Stanley  is  a  man  at  nine  years  old,  because  if 
he  were,  he  would  be  a  very  unnatural  sort  of 
person.  But  I  do  mean  that  I  should  like  him  to 
have  just  as  much  manliness  as  he  can  have  at 
that  age,  and  remember  that  even  at  nine  he  has 
outgrown  some  little  things  that  fitted  him  once 
—  little  whims,  and  little  fretful  ways,  and  little 
fits  of  temper.  I  want  him,  too,  to  stand  on  his 
own  feet  —  not  to  hold  on  to  his  brother  Jimmie 
or  anybody  else  for  support." 

"Jimmie  holds  on  to  me  when  we're  skating," 
said  Geoffrey,  a  little  piqued. 

cfI  dare  say.  Well,  suppose  you  agrex>  to  stand 
each  on  his  own  feet  henceforth  —  Jimmie  phys- 
ically, and  you  morally.    Will  you  try?" 

Geoffrey  laughed,  with  the  big  tears  still  stand- 
ing in  his  eyes.  Papa's  Sunday  talks  always  made 
him  feel  like  crying. 


WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN .  37 


"And  now,  my  dear  boys,  I  don't  think  I've 
anything  more  to  say,  except  to  wind  up  my  little 
sermon ;  and  that  I  shall  do  by  telling  you  all 
to  fight  your  good  fight  here  at  home  as  bravely 
as  you  can,  and  vanquish  the  old  enemy,  Self, 
wherever  he  shows  himself.  Let  Arthur,  Bob, 
Jimmie,  and  Geoffrey  be  themselves  as  much  as  they 
can, — their  best  selves,  I  mean,  —  and  I  shan't 
ask  any  more  of  them.  Keep  up  brave  hearts, 
write  bright  letters,  and  remember  that  there  are 
only  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  in  a  year ! " 

There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  talk  as  to  what 
is  the  saddest  word  in  the  English  language,  and 
as  I  think  myself  that  "good-by"  is,  I  do  not 
mean  to  put  it  into  my  story  at  all.  I  mean  to 
skip  over  the  parting  between  my  boys  and  their 
parents,  and  transport  you  at  once  to  Lakeside  Hill, 
of  which  I  shall  not  yet  even  give  you  a  descrip- 
tion. At  the  time  when  I  thought  much  more  of 
reading  than  writing  stories,  I  used  to  wish  that 
the  people  who  did  write  would  let  the  children 
speak  for  themselves,  and  not  tell  so  much  about 
them  and  the  place  where  the}'  lived.  So.  though 
I  want  you  to  know  what  a  delightful  place  Lake- 


38 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


side  Hill  is,  I  prefer  to  tell  you  that  presently, 
and  let  you  get  a  little  better  acquainted  with 
my  four  boys  on  their  way  there.  You  will  not 
think  so  short  a  journey  could  afford  much  op- 
portunity for  showing  character;  and  yet  it  hap- 
pened so  in  this  instance. 

Mr.  Osborne,  the  boys'  grandfather,  remember- 
ing  how  dreary  a  shut-up  house  will  look  to 
people  who  have  just  seen  their  friends  off  at  the 
station,  had  sought  to  divert  Geoffrey's  mind  by 
giving  him  his  dearest  delight — a  horseback  ride 
to  Lakeside  Hill.  Accordingly,  when  the  boys 
turned  the  corner  of  the  street  on  their  way  back 
from  the  depot,  two  ponies  were  in  waiting  at 
the  door.  At  this  sight,  Geoffrey's  long-drawn 
face  changed  into  a  round,  smiling  one  as  magi- 
cally as  does  the  reflection  in  the  bowl  of  a  spoon 
held  first  upright,  then  horizontally. 

"O,  there  arc  the  ponies  from  Lakeside  Hill!" 
he  cried.  "How  shall  we  go?  What  a  pity  we 
can't  ride  double  !  " 

"You  may  have  my  share,  Jeff,"  said  Bob,  good- 
naturedly.  rf  I'm  going  to  take  a  five-mile  con- 
stitutional,    I'd  just  as  lief  walk  as  ride." 


WATCHWORDS,  AXD  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN.  39 


"And  I'd  rather,''  chimed  in  Jimmie,  shrinking 
I  nick  a  little  at  the  idea  of  a  tete-d-tete  ride  with 
Geoffrey. 

"  Well  then,  Jim,  if  you're  sure  it's  not  too  far  for 
you,  and  Arthur  will  see  after  Jeff,  we'd  better  be  off." 

"I  will  take  care  of  it  all,"  said  Arthur,  somewhat 
loftily;  and  Bob  and  Jimmie  speedily  turned  the 
corner  for  their  five-mile  tramp. 

"Come,  Arty,  come!"  cried  Geoffrey,  all  im- 
patience to  mount,  while  Arthur,  with  due  sense 
of  responsibility,  lingered  over  the  last  look  at 
the  deserted  home. 

"In  a  minute  —  coming;  "  but  when  Geoffrey  next 
looked  round,  Arthur  was  deep  in  conversation  with 
a  friend  who  had  just  come  up.  In  vain  he  fidgeted 
and  snapped  his  whip.  Arthur  was  too  much  ab- 
sorbed to  heed  him. 

"I'm  off,  Arthur,"  he  said  at  last,  when  he  had 
thought  about  cantering  till  it  seemed  almost  a 
mockery  to  be  standing  still. 

"As  you  like,"  said  Arthur,  pleasantly;  "only 
leave  my  horse  for  me.  Or  stay,  Geoffrey ;  if  you 
like,  just  lead  him  along  by  the  bridle.  I'll  catch 
up  with  vou  directly." 


40 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Geoffrey  needed  no  second  bidding,  and  set  off  on 
the  instant  —  feeling  double  importance  from  the 
fact  of  having  two  horses  to  manage,  instead  of  one. 
Indeed,  in  the  delight  of  independence,  he  carefully 
avoided  the  way  by  which  his  brothers  had  gone, 
fearing  to  be  relieved  of  a  portion  of  his  charge,  and 
galloped  off,  full  speed,  in  another  direction. 

Now,  Arthur  had,  in  truth,  been  in  no  haste  to 
mount.  Grandpapa's  rough  little  Shetland  ponies, 
though  well  enough  for  Lakeside  Hill,  wrcre  certain- 
ly not  such  elegant  steeds  as  Steve  Lenox  was  ac- 
customed to ;  and  this  friend  was  a  person  whose 
doings  and  belongings  Arthur  considered  worthy 
of  imitation.  So  he  finished  his  conversation  at 
his  leisure,  sure  of  catching  up  with  Geoffrey, 
and  saving  his  pride  by  mounting  out  of  sight. 

Not  so  with  Bob.  He  cared  very  little  for  the  cut 
of  a  horse's  mane  and  tail,  if  he  were  only  capable  of 
a  canter ;  and  his  eagerness  for  the  other  route  had 
been  principally  on  Jimmie's  account.  (Jiromie  had 
not  quite  Geoffrey's  daring  in  the  matter  of  horses.) 
It  was  on  his  account,  loo,  that  the  w five-mi^e  con- 
stitutional" was  soon  changed  lor  a  run  to  the  sta- 
tion and  a  car  ride  to  Lakcville. 


WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN .  41 

As  the  two  boys  got  out  of  the  train,  the  first  sight 
lhat  met  their  eyes  was  a  runaway  horse  — the  first 
bound  that  met  their  ears  the  "  heighs !  "  and 
"whoas!"  with  which  well-meaning  people  ter- 
rify, instead  of  stopping,  fugitive  steeds. 

"That's  grandpapa's  pony,  Bob,"  said  Jimmie, 
turning,  in  his  alarm,  to  seize  his  brother's  arm. 
T>ut  Bob  was    already  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd. 

"That's  my  grandfather's,  Mr.  Osborne's  horse," 
said  he;  "has  any  one  seen  another  like  this,  or  a 
little  boy,  between  here  and  Boston?" 

No,  nobody  had  ;  and  Bob,  holding  the  bridle  of 
the  captured  pony,  was  fain  to  reassure  Jimmie. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  Jim.  Arthur  would  not  be 
thrown,  you  know,  and  he'll  look  after  Jeff.  Yon 
wait  here  till  I  come,  and  I'll  just  ride  back  and 
see  where  they  are.  Or,  if  you'd  rather,  just  go 
up  to  grandpapa's,  —  only  mind,  don't  say  a  word 
about  the  horse,  to  frighten  them  ;  say  I'm  coming." 

"  V]\  be  careful ;  "  and  off  ran  Jimmie  in  one 
direction,  while  Bob  cantered  in  another. 

It  was  certainly  an  afternoon  of  mishaps.  No 
sooner  had  Bob  turned  the  corner  than  he  came 
full  on  Geoffrey  and  his  steed  apparently  at  cross- 


42 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


purposes.  What  the  pony's  intent  might  be  was  not 
clear ;  but  at  that  precise  moment  his  heels  were 
rather  higher  than  his  head,  and  his  small  rider  had 
great  ado  to  maintain  his  position.  Whatever  had 
been  the  pony's  intention,  he  evidently  changed  it  at 
sight  of  Bob,  and  was  off  like  a  shot.  Geoffrey 
clung  on  manfully,  though  not  prepared  for  the 
sudden  bolt,  and  the  next  minute,  Bob  having 
caught  at  the  rein  as  the  pony  shot  past,  both 
horses  and  both  riders  rolled  on  the  ground. 

"I'm  not  hurt  a  bit,"  was  Geoffrey's  first  assertion, 
made  with  great  stoutness,  as  he  sat  on  the  ground 
and  ruefully  rubbed  his  knees. 

"I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Bob;  "but,  Geoffrey, 
where  is  Arthur?  and  how  came  you  with  both 
horses  ?  " 

"Why,"  said  Geoffrey,  "Arthur  was  talking  with 
a  fellow,  and  said  he'd  catch  up,  and  so  I  went  on." 

"At  a  walk,  I  suppose?"  said  Bob,  laughing,  in 
spite  of  himself,  at  Geoffrey's  face. 

"Why,  no,  not  exactly,"  said  Geoffrc}^  with  the 
dimples  twinkling  in  his  cheeks.  "But,  Bob,  I  had 
a  very  nice  ride  at  first,  with  both  horses;  and  then, 
somehow,  I  dropped  the  rein,  and  when  1  tried  to 


WATCHWORDS,  AND  A  ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN. 

catch  it,  my  horse  behaved  badly,  and  I  went  over 
his  head.    But  I'm  not  hurt  a  bit !  " 

"I'm  afraid  the  pony  is,  though,"  said  Bob,  crit- 
ically surveying  the  animal's  knees. 

"O,  Bob,  not  really?"  said  Geoffrey,  alarmed. 
"  O,  dear  me  !  But  don't  tell  grandpapa  about  my 
running  away  —  will  you?" 

«I  never  did  tell  tales,  Jeff,"  said  Bob,  quietly. 
"Of  course  you  and  Arthur  will  tell  your  own 
story.    But  come  —  Jimmie  will  be  waiting  for  us." 

"How  you  boys  come  scattering  along!"  cried 
Mr.  Osborne's  cheery  voice  at  the  gate,  on  the 
stone  post  of  which  Jimmie  sat  like  a  little  sentinel. 
"Here's  Jimmie,  come  by  the  train  half  an  hour 
ao-o;  and  Arthur,  he  says,  is  on  the  road.  But 
what's  happened,  Bob?  The  pony's  knees  are  all 
bloody  ! " 

"I  did  that,  grandpapa,"  said  Geoffrey,  stoutly. 
"I  had  a  little  trouble  with  my  horse  —  that's  all," 
he  added,  with  dignity. 

"O,  is  that  all?  "  said  grandpapa,  amused.  w  And 
where  was  Bob,  meantime?" 

"I  was  not  with  him,"  said  Bob,  turning  away, 
as  he  wrapped  a  handkerchief  round  his  wrist. 


44 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"And  why  not?  It  seems  as  if  you  might  have 
ridden  with  Geoffrey  if  Arthur  was  willing  to  walk. 
That's  not  the  best  beginning,  Bob,  now  your 
father's  away.  But  what's  the  matter  with  your 
wrist?" 

"  Only  a  little  sprain,  sir." 

"So  you've  had  a  tumble,  too?  Well,"  said 
grandpapa,  looking  from  one  to  the  other,  in  com- 
ical perplexity,  *  I  wonder  which  is  the  more  trust- 
worthy, Geoffrey  or  you,  Bob." 

"Here's  Arthur!"  cried  Jimmie,  from  his  post. 

"Bob,  why  don't  you  tell?"  whispered  Geoffrey. 
"I  will,  then." 

"Good  evening,  sir,"  said  Arthur's  pleasant  voice, 
as  he  came  up  to  the  little  group.  "Why,  Geof- 
frey/' —  turning  to  the  culprit,  who  looked  some- 
what sheepish  at  sight  of  him, — "how  you  must 
have  ridden  !  I  couldn't  catch  up  with  you,  and 
so  I  had  my  five-mile  tramp  after  all." 

"You  must  have  staid  a  long  time  with  Steve 
Lenox,"  began  Geoffrey,  faintly;  but  grandpapa's 
loud  voice  quite  drowned  the  explanation, 

"Poor  Arthur,  he  gets  all  (he  hard  knocks !  — 
That's  the   way  in  this  world,  my  boy,  with  the 


WATCHWORDS,   AND  A   ROADSIDE  CAMPAIGN.  45 


people  who  always  give  up.  But  never  mind  now. 
Come  in  to  tea  ;  and  welcome  to  Lakeside  Hill !  " 

The  greeting  sounded  so  pleasant  that  perhaps 
Arthur  forgot  to  explain  his  full  share  in  the 
situation. 


46 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 

WHAT  a  region  of  delight  was  Mr.  Osborne's 
place  to  all  his  grandchildren  ! 
"Bob,"  said  Arthur,  confidentially,  one  day,  — 
they  were  little  boys  at  the  time,  —  "shouldn't  you 
think  mamma  would  have  hated  to  leave  Lakeside 
Hill,  and  go  to  live  with  papa  in  such  a  narrow 
little  poky  house  as  ours  is?" 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  exclaimed  Bob,  who  was  a  very 
loving  little  fellow,  "because  she  couldn't  have  had 
papa  without ;  and  I'd  rather  have  him  than  all  the 
money  and  big  houses  in  the  world  —  wouldn't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Arthur,  dubiously;  "but  I  think  it's 
n  pity  we  can't  have  both." 

Hie  house  is  a  very  large  brow  n  stone  one,  stand- 
ing in  a  great  garden  of  its  own;  for  Lakeville, 
though  so  near  Boston,  is  not  at  all  city-like.  It 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIKS  AND  DOWN.  47 

stands  quite  high  on  a  hill,  and  from  the  great 
piazza  in  front  you  can  see  the  blue  lake  glittering 
in  summer,  or  in  winter  a  smooth  sheet  of  ice 
covered  with  skaters.    There  is  a  beautiful  garden 
and  green-house,  though  November  is  not  the  best 
time  to  sec  either  of  them,  and  there  are  stables,  to 
which  Geoffrey  has  to  be  forbidden  to  go  much  too 
()ften  _  horses,  as  we  know,  are  his  passion.  In- 
side, the  house  is  just  as  comfortable  as  it  can  be, 
and  not  too  fashionable  or  fine  for  what  Mr.  Osborne 
considers  comfort.    He  says  he  must  have  fireplaces, 
such  as  he  used  to  have  when  he  was  a  boy ;  and  in 
every  room  there  are  great  crackling  fires  of  logs. 
The  mantel-pieces  and  wainscotings  are  all  of  pol- 
ished oak,  and  so   is  the   broad  staircase,  down 
whose   slippery  balusters  Geoffrey,  and  Bob  too 
sometimes,  delight  to  slide. 

Every  i  iom  in  the  house,  from  the  attic  to  the 
kitchen,  is  large  and  airy,  —  Mr.  Osborne  says  he 
must  have  plenty  of  air  and  space,  — and,  by  the 
way,  both  the  above-mentioned  rooms  are  very  im- 
portant parts  of  grandpapa's  house  to  the  boys. 
What  a  place  is  that  attic,  with  its  great  smooth 
floor  and  the  line  of  trunks  ranged   round  the 


48 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


walls,  for  " Blind  Man's  Buff!"  What  stores  of  old 
dresses  for  charades  and  tableaux  those  trunks  can 
furnish!  and  what  a  place  it  is  for  a  home  gym- 
nasium! Hand  swings,  parallel  bars,  bean  bags  — 
there's  room  for  everything  here  !  As  for  the  £reat 
kitchen,  I  shouldn't  like  to  say  how  old  are  some 
of  the  grandchildren  who  visit  that !  The  great 
roaring  lire,  Prissy  and  her  store-closet  —  but  no, 
I  will  not  describe  these  things  now  ;  it  is  certainly 
not  proper  to  speak  of  the  people  in  the  kitchen 
before  we  have  seen  those  in  the  parlor. 

So,  while  we  are  up  stairs,  let  ns  go  into  the 
library,  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  inmates 
of  Lakeside  Hill,  for  in  the  library  they  are  all 
assembled  ;  and  this  room  is  the  one,  of  all  others, 
in  which  Jimmie  delights.  It  is  panelled  with  pol- 
ished wood,  like  the  rest  of  the  house,  and  there  are 
ereat  carved  book-cases,  with  whose  contents  Jim- 
mie  is  a  privileged  person.  There  is  a  warm- 
looking  crimson  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  a  groat 
blazing  lire,  near  which  he  is  already  ensconsed 
with  a  book. 

Mi.  Osborne,  the  boys'  grandfather,  silling  by  the 
table  in  his  great  crimson  arm-chair,  is  a  line,  hand- 


LAKESIDE    HILL,   CP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


49 


some  old  gentleman,  with  a  ruddy  face  and  white 
bair.  He  is  very  indulgent  to  all  the  boys,  partic- 
ularly to  Arthur,  who  is  most  like  him,  and  to  Jim- 
mie,  who  is  his  namesake.  But  grandpapa  is  not 
a  person  to  be  ridden  over,  indulgent  though  he  is. 
Once  or  twice  in  their  lives  the  boys  have  seen 
him  really  angry,  and  they  have  never  forgotten 
it.  He  often  pretends  to  be  angry  when  he  is 
talking  with  them  in  his  funny,  half-joking,  good- 
natured  manner;  but  that  is  very  different  from 
the  real  thing,  and  they  take  very  good  care  that 
there  shall  be  no  occasion  for  that. 

Grandmamma  is  a  comfortable,  placid-looking 
old  lady,  with  mild  blue  eyes,  and  little  frizzly 
curls  of  silvery  hair.  She  is  almost  always  dressed 
in  a  black  silk  dress  and  a  snowy  cap  —  things 
which  are  inseparable  from  Geoffrey's  idea  of  a 
grandmother.  Geoffrey  is  her  peculiar  pet,  and 
any  undue  share  of  spoiling  which  the  young  gen- 
tleman receives,  comes,  I  fancy,  from  her. 

There    is   another   regular  inmate  of  Lakeside 
Hill,  and  one  without  whom  it  would  lose  many 
of  its  charms,  —  and  this  is  cousin  Sue,  the  bright, 
fivsh-looking  young  lady  who  sitrf  in  the  chimney- 
4 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


corner  crocheting.  Sue  Osborne  is  an  orphan 
granddaughter,  —  the  child  of  Mr.  Osborne's  eldest 
son,  —  and  since  the  death  of  her  parents,  when 
she  was  quite  a  little  girl,  she  has  lived  in  Lake- 
ville.  She  is  now  about  twenty-one  —  a  great  age 
to  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey,  who  look  up  to  and  re- 
spect her  almost  as  much  as  they  love  her.  She 
is  to  be  their  instructress  this  winter,  and  is  al- 
ways their  merry  companion  and  sympathizer,  their 
story-teller,  confidante  — a  host  of  things  besides. 
She  is  a  very  pleasant  person  to  look  at,  with  her 
bright  brown  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  rosy  cheeks  ; 
and  a  very  pleasant  person  to  live  with,  because 
she  has  at  once  a  sweet  temper  and  a  strong 
character. 

These  are  all  the  regular  inmates  of  Lakeside 
Hill;  but  on  the  hearth-rug  stands  another  person, 
who  has  not  yet  been  introduced;  a  gentleman  in 
soldier's  dress,  and  with  his  arm  in  a  sling  —  an 
appendage  at  which  Jimmie  glanced  with  sympa- 
thetic, and  Geoffrey  with  wondering,  eyes,  when 
they  first  saw  its  wearer.  The  gentleman  is  not 
very  old,  but  lie  has  a  grave  face,  which  makes 
him  look  older  than   he   really   is;  and   1   may  as 


LAKESIDE  HILL,   UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


51 


well  say  at  once  that  as  a  soldier,  and  a  brave 
soldier,  he  is  Bob's  very  ideal  of  manly  perfec- 
tion —  an  object  of  the  deepest  reverence  and  ad- 
miration. Major  Guy  Dalton — Colonel  he  must 
be  called  now,  for  since  the  last  battle,  in  which 
he  got  that  wounded  arm,  he  has  been  promoted, 
and  when  his  wound  is  well  (he  is  at  home  on 
sick  leave)  he  will  go  back  to  the  war  as  colonel 
of  a  new  regiment,  which  he  will  drill  in  camp 
this  spring.  But  we  are  getting  on  quite  too 
fast,  for  instead  of  going  forward  I  ought  to  have 
gone  back,  and  said  that  Guy  Dalton  was  an 
orphan,  like  Sue  Osborne,  - —  the  son  of  an  old 
friend  of  the  family,  — and  that  he  had  been  grand- 
papa's ward  while  he  was  young  enough  to  need 
a  guardian.  Since  he  has  grown  up,  Lakeside  Hill 
has  been  his  home  whenever  he  has  been  anywhere 
"near  it ;  but  that  has  been  very  seldom.  First  he 
went  to  college,  then  to  Europe,  then  to  the  war, 
so  that,  to  the  little  boys  at  least,  he  is  almost 
a  stranger. 

"  And  so,  my  dear  Mrs.  Osborne,"  Colonel  Dal- 
ton is  saying,  just  at  the  moment  we  enter  the 
room,  "your  kind  offer  is  the  very  thing  I  wi^h 


52 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


for  Lillie,  not  only  because  I  shall  see  her  so  mucfr 
more  comfortably  and  happily  here  than  in  New 
York,  but  because  there  are  influences  here  which 
will,  I  know,  be  far  better  for  my  little  sister 
than  in  her  home  with  her  aunt." 

Bob,  who  had  very  quick  eyes  and  ears  for  all 
that  Colonel  Daltou  did  and  said,  wondered  why 
tie  glanced  at  Sue  when  he  talked  about  "in- 
fluences." 

"And  Mrs.  Melville  leaves  very  soon  for  Eu- 
rope?" asked  Mrs.  Osborne. 

"  Yes,  almost  immediately.  She  writes  me  that 
she  is  coming  to  Boston  first  for  a  little  visit,  and 
she  will  bring  Lillie  directly  here.  I  must  say 
I  think  it  a  very  fortunate  circumstance  that  she 
should  take  this  European  tour  just  now,  for  if 
the  time  ever  does  come  when  I  shall  settle  down 
quietly  in  a  house  of  my  own,  my  very  first  desire 
will  be  to  take  Lillie  away  from  her  present  home. 
The  older  she  grows,  the  worse — "  He  inter- 
rupted himself  suddenly,  and  finished  by  saying, 
"But  I  am  almost  afraid,  Mrs.  Osborne,  that  I 
have  accepted  your  kind  invitation  too  readily, 
and  that  you  will  have  too  many  little  people." 


LAKESIDE  HILL,   UP  STATUS  AND  DOWN. 


53 


"Nonsense,  Guy,"  said  grandpapa,  quickly  ; 
"  there's  no  such  thing  possible.  What  do  you 
say,  little  book-worm?"  playfully  pulling  down  the 
book  over  which  Ji ramie  was  poring.  "You'll 
be  glad  enough  to  have  a  little  sister  Lillie  again 
—  won't  you  ?  " 

"Bob  will,"  said  Jimmie ;  "it  is  Bob  who  misses 
Lillie  most  —  our  Lillie  at  home,  I  mean." 

"Bob,  eh?"  said  grandpapa.  "Now,  I  shouldn't 
imagine  Bob  cared  much  for  little  girls;  he's  too 
rough  for  them,  I  should  suppose." 

Grandpapa  was  one  of  the  people  who  did  not 
fairly  understand  Bob,  and  for  that  reason  Bob 
rarely  showed  him  his  best  side.  Accordingly  he 
did  not  appear  in  this  conversation  at  all,  only 
gave  a  little  smile  and  shrug  of  his  shoulders  to 
himself,  unperceived  by  anybody  but  Jimmie,  who 
was  forever  trying,  in  his  loving  little  fashion,  to 
make  grandpapa  know  Bob  better. 

"And  as  for  you,  Sue,"  Mr.  Osborne  went  on, 
"  I  know  you'll  be  glad  enough  to  have  another 
pupil  —  a  nice  little  gentle  girl,  after  these  rude, 
noisy  boys ;  "  again  turning  round  to  pinch  Jim- 
mie's  ear  slyly. 


51 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"J  don'/;  say  anything  about  the  'rude,  loisy 
boys/  but  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  a  new 
pupil,"  said  Sue,  lifting  her  eyes  smilingly  to 
Colonel  Dalton. 

"I  only  hope  she  won't  prove  a  troublesome 
one,"  said  he.  (tI  am  sorry  to  say  I  know  my 
little  sister  very  slightly  after  all  these  years  of 
separation:  but  I  am  afraid  my  aunt's  system  is 
not  the  most  judicious.  I  should  not  say  a  word 
against  her,  for  she  is  the  only  mother  Lillie  has 
known  since  she  can  remember;  but  you  know 
what  a  gay  woman  of  fashion  in  New  York  is,  and 
I  fear  Miss  Osborne  must  not  look  for  anything 
very  docile  in  Lillie.  When  children  have  no  dis- 
cipline, and  are  fed  on  flattery,  they  are  rather  apt 
to  become  self-willed,  vain  little  puppets,  however 
sweet  they  may  be  by  nature." 

"Well,  well,  Guy,  we'll  take  her  as  we  find  her," 
said  grandpapa,  quickly,  for  grandmamma  had 
clicked  her  knitting-needles  several  times  to  call 
attention  to  Geoffrey's  wide-open  eyes  and  ears, 
drinking  in  all  they  said  of  Lillie  Dalton. 

"f  Little  pitchers  have  long  cars,'"  said  she,  half 
laughing,  as  Guy  looked  up,  surprised. 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIRS  ANT)  DOT/N. 


r,5 


M  Now,  grandmamma,"  said  Geoffrey,  vexed,  as 
all  eyes  turned  towards  him,  "you  are  always 
saying  that  when  I'm  in  the  room." 

"I'm  only  afraid  the  poor  child  will  be  homesick 
with  us,"  said  grandmamma,  softly  patting  the  back 
of  Geoffrey's  fat  hand  to  restore  his  good-humor. 

Colonel  Dalton  smiled,  as  if  he  did  not  think 
that  very  likely  ;  and  grandpapa  said,  — 

"O,  we'll  take  good^care  of  that  — won't  we, 
Arthur?  For  in  spite  of  what  our  little  philoso- 
pher here  may  say,  I  can't  help  thinking  you  more 
likely  to  please  a  young  lady  of  twelve  than  Master 
Bob,  with  his  base  ball  and  cricket." 

"I'll  do  what  I  can,  sir,"  said  Arthur,  with  his 
pretty,  polite  cordiality ;  «  but  you  know,"  turning 
to  Colonel  Dalton,  "that  the  young  lady's  brother 
will  probably  be  the  chief  attraction  he  e,  and 
the  rest  of  us  won't  matter  much." 

"Very  good,  Arthur,"  said  grandpapa,  approv- 
ingly. "That's  quite  a  pretty  little  speech  for 
fifteen.  I  expect  to  see  you  quite  a  society  man 
one  of  these  days." 

And   such  compliments  always  gratified  Arthur 

immensely. 


56 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


The  kitchen  at  Lakeside  Hill  (I  am  going  to  tell 
you  about  that,  now ;  so  we  will  follow  Jimmie 
and  Geoffrey  down  stairs)  was  not  the  least  attrac- 
tive feature  of  the  place  — at  all  events,  to  the 
grandchildren.  Mr.  Osborne  had  idea-s  of  his  own 
about  houses,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  and  he 
showed  them  in  his  kitchen  as  well  as  +y»i% 
where  else. 

"I  always  liked  sanded  floors  when  I  * 
boy,"  said  he,  "and  my  mothers  kitchen  at  ho  it 
had  a  sanded  floor."  Accordingly,  when  the  brovvv 
stone  house  was  built  at  Lakeville  (now  a  goor 
many  years  ago),  the  floor  of  the  great  roomy 
kitchen  had  to  be  kept  carefully  sanded  and  brushed 
in  little  ripples  like  those  one  sees  on  the  beach 
where  the  waves  have  been  rollin°*  in. 

o 

It  was  no  wonder  all  the  grandchildren,  little 
and  big,  thought  this  kitchen  a  pleasant  place. 
The  great  roaring  fire,  the  wide  hearth,  so  sugges- 
tive of  roasted  apples,  the  cupboards  in  the  cor- 
ners, filled  with  shining  dishes  and  cups,  and  the 
old-fashioned  settles  in  the  chimney  corner,  which 
grmdpapa  would  have,  because  they  reminded  him 
of  his  mother's  country  kitchen,  —  it  was  like  com- 


LAKESIDE  HILL,   UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


ing  down  stairs  and  finding  one's  self  back  in  one  of 
the  good  old  country  farm-houses  one  reads  about ; 
and  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey,  as  well  as  Arthur  and 
Bob,  were  very  fond  of  coming  down  here  in  the 
winter   afternoons   to    chat   with   Prissy,  eat  her 
raisins  and  doughnuts,  roast  apples  or  make  mo- 
lasses candy  over  her  fire.    The  kitchen  would  not 
have  been  anything  at  all  without  Prissy,  who  was, 
besides,  a  very  important  part  of  the  household. 
She  had  been  in  the  family  ever  since  grandmam- 
ma was  married,  and  had  carried  Mrs.  Stanley  in 
her  arms  as  a  baby  many  a  time  ;  so  she  could  tell 
the   boys  plenty  of  stories  about  the  time  when 
their  mamma  was  a  little  girl.    She  was  a  funny 
little  old  woman,  with  her  gray  hair  bobbed  up 
behind  in  a  queer  little  twist,  and  a  great  white 
apron  that  almost  covered  her  up,  so  small  was 
she.     Grandmamma  had  tried  to  persuade  her  a 
great  many  times  to  give  up  cooking,  now  that 
she  was   so  old,  and   only  have  a  housekeeper's 
duty  of  directing  and  superintending  the  others. 
But  she  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing,  declaring 
that  "there  was  not  a  girl  she  would  trust  to  do 
anything."     However,  though   she  was  still  only 


58 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


the  cook,  she  was  treated  with  as  much  respect 
as  if  she  had  been  a  housekeeper  by  the  other 
servants,  who  held  her  in  great  awe,  and  always 
addressed  her  as  Mrs.  Chip.  (She  had  married 
from  grandpapa's  house,  and  come  directly  back 
there  when,  a  few  months  afterwards,  she  was  left 
a  widow.)  To  these  servants,  and  to  the  man,  she 
was  rather  a  tyrant,  keeping  them  in  such  a  state 
of  subjection  that  they  generally  retired  to  the 
back  kitchen,  and  were  seldom  seen  in  Prissy's 
precincts.  But  Prissy  was  in  her  turn  ridden  over 
by  all  the  children  of  the  family,  whom  she  spoiled 
quite  as  much  as  their  grandmamma  did ;  and, 
indeed,  I  think  she  considered  tiieoi  quite  as  much 
her  property.  There  was  a  certain  store-closet 
which  was  the  place,  of  all  others,  where  Prissy 
kept  her  supplies  of  goodies,  and  the  shelves  of 
which  every  youngster  in  the  family  scaled,  when- 
ever he  could  get  a  chance,  to  carry  off  her  raisins 
and  preserved  ginger,  or  to  pry  into  her  jam- 
pots. Nay,  if  I  did  not  know  how  much  ashamed' 
he  would  be,  I  could  tell  a  tale  of  cousin  Jack's 
having  been  found  in  that  very  closet,  only  last 
Christmas  holidays — cousin  Jack,  a  real  collegian 


LAKESIDE   II ILL,  UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


in  tail-coat  and  with  a  cane,  which  filled  Arthur 
with  envy  and  emulation.  And  to  all  these  ma- 
raudings Prissy  submitted,  with  only  the  mildest 
form  of  rebuke  when  they  became  outrageous; 
indeed,  I  think  she  rather  liked  it. 


GEOFFREY  IN  THE  CLOSET. 


Before  this  roaring  fire,  then,  on  this  particular 
afternoon,  Jimmie  was  sitting,  with  a  whole  row 
of  great   rosy  apples   roasting  on   the  hearth  in 


no 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


front  of  him.  Prissy  was  bustling  about  in  her 
spry  little  fashion,  and  it  is  to  be  presumed  that 
Geoffrey  was  not  far  off,  for  a  great  crackling  of 
paper  bags  and  clinking  of  glass  jars  were  heard, 
and  presently  Prissy,  popping  her  head  round  a 
closet  door,  exclaimed,  as  if  she  had  only  just  heard 
the  noise,  — 

"Now,  Master  Geoffrey,  do,  dear,  come  down, 
this  very  minute  !  I  shan't  have  a  raisin  or  a  stick 
of  cinnamon  left !  What  would  your  grandma'am 
say?  " 

As  this  was  always  Prissy's  appeal  in  such  cases, 
Geoffrey  was  not  much  alarmed  at  the  thought  of 
what  his  grandmamma  would  say;  but  he  de- 
scended slowly  from  the  shelf,  nevertheless,  with 
his  pockets  apparently  full. 

"Why,  Prissy,"  said  he,  H  I  was  only  just  taking 
a  few.  The  apples  aren't  done  yet,  and  it's  so 
stupid  waiting.    I'm  hungry,  besides." 

"Why,  bless  the  boy,"  said  Prissy,  with  an  odd 
little  shake  of  laughter,  K  he's  only  just  done  eat- 
ing! Now  you  come  and  sit  down  here  and  look 
at  Master  Jim,  sitting  there  so  quiet  and  pretty 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN . 


fil 


on  his  little  stool.  Perhaps  he'll  tell  us  a  story 
while  the  apples  are  roasting." 

"Not  now,  Prissy,"  said  cousin  Sue's  pleasant 
voice  at  the  door. 

"O,  cousin  Sue,"  cried  Geoffrey,  "you  don't  want 

us  do  you  ?     We're  just   having   such  a  nice 

time  !  " 

"I'm  sorry,  Geoffie,"  said  Sue;  "but  somebody 
wants  you,  though  it  isn't  L  Mrs.  Melville  is 
up  stairs,  with  Liliie  Dalton,  and  she  wishes  to 
see  you  boys." 

"  Bother  !  "  said  Geoffrey. 

"And  the  apples  aren't  roasted,"  said  Jimmie, 
rising,  regretfully.    "Well,  I'm  ready,  cousin  Sue." 

"I  don't  see  why  ladies  want  to  see  one  always," 
said  Geoffrey,  following  slowly.  "  I'm  sure  I  don't 
want  to  see  them!"  But,  somehow,  cousin  Sue 
had  managed  to  smooth  all  the  unpleasantness  out 
of  his  rosy  face  before  they  reached  the  parlor 
door. 

When  they  entered  the  room,  they  found  a  fash- 
ionably-dressed lady  talking  volubly  to  grand- 
mamma, while  on  the  hearth-rug  stood  a  little 
girl,  at  whom  Jimmie  glanced  eagerly,  half  expect- 


62 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


ing,  iii  some  mysterious  way,  to  see  a  fac-simile 
of  his  own  little  sister,  Lillie.    But  this  child  was 
almost  a  young  lady  in  looks  and  dress  —  or  so 
at  least  she  seemed  to  simple  Jimmie.    She  was 
very  pretty  and  self-possessed,  though  there  was 
a  little  conscious  air  about  her,  and  a  little  curl 
in  the  corner  of  her  mouth,  that  was  not  quite 
pleasant.    She  was  beautifully  dressed  in  a  velvet 
sack,  and  pretty  white  furs,  with  a  jaunty  little 
velvet  cap,  set  on  her  long  flaxen  curls,  and  in 
these  curls  Jimmie  saw  the  only  likeness  to  little 
Lillie.    She  was  standing  by  Colonel  Dalton  when 
they  entered,  her  hand  resting  on  his  knee;  but 
somehow  it  did  not  strike  Jimmie  as  being  a  caress 
so  much  as  a  pretty  position,  and  possibly  Miss 
Lillie  was  thinking  of  this  herself.     Guy  looked 
grave,  as   he  generally  did,  but   he  was  talking 
to  his  sister  pleasantly  and  affectionately.    As  for 
Arthur  and  Bob,  the  former  stood  by  Mrs.  Mel- 
ville, talking  and  listening,  quite  at  his  ease,  and 
evidently  much  to  the  visitor's    taste.     Bob  was 
sitting  in  rather  a  remote  window-seat,  with  the 
slightly  bored  expression  fashionable  lady  visitors 
were  apt  to  give  him. 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  8TAIUS  AND  DOWN. 


63 


in 


"These  are  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey,"  said  graud- 
amma,  as  the  twins  entered  the  room.  "Come 
and  speak  to  Mrs.  Melville,  dears." 

"O,  the  little  twins,"  said  the  lady,  turning  quick- 
ly ;  "they  are  always  the  prettiest  sight  at  any  age. 
But  I  declare,  they're  not  a  bit  alike -are  they? 
My  dear  Mrs.  Osborne,  what  a  little  love  of  a 
fellow  ! " 

The  "  little  love  "  was  of  course  Geoffrey,  who  was 
quite  accustomed  to  such  phrases  from  ladies,  and 
now  submitted  with  good  grace  to  Mrs.  Melville's 
admiration,  though  inwardly  congratulating  himself 
that  he  was  too  big  to  be  kissed. 

"  I  think  you're  very  like  your  oldest  brother,  my 
love,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  nattering  glance  at 
Arthur;  "and  Mr.  Arthur  is  very  like  you,  Mr. 
Osborne.  But  you,  my  dear,"  to  Jimmie,  "don't 
look  like  either  of  your  brothers.  I'm  sure  you 
must  be  very  fond  of  reading  and  studying  to  get 
such  pale  cheeks  — now  aren't  you?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Jimmie. 

"There,  I  knew  it!"  said  the  lady.    "And  of 
course  you  are  very  bright?" 

"Yes,  he  is,"  said  Geoffrey. 


64 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"A  perfect  little  minister  —  isn't  he?"  said  Mrs. 

Melville,  in  an   affected   aside  to  Mrs.  Osborne. 

"Lillie,  my  love,  come  here  and  speak  to  two  more 

of  your  winter  companions.    I'm  afraid  you'll  find 

Master  Jimmie,  here,  quite  outdoes  you  in  study. 

I  fear  my  little  pet  will  prove  a  very  backward 

pupil,  Miss  Osborne." 

The  young   lady,  whose  pretty  lip  had  curled 

rather  scornfully  at  her  aunt's  words,  now  advanced 
from  her  brother's  side,  and  shook  hands  with  Jim- 
mie and  Geoffrey  in  such  a  patronizing  manner  that 
even  gentle  Jimmie  noticed  it,  while  Geoffrey  took 
an  early  opportunity  to  whisper  indignantly  to  his 
brother,  "How  big  she  feels!" 

"I  don't  mean,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Melville, 
whose  system  it  was  to  smooth  away  with  flattery 
one  minute  what  she  had  said  for  effect  in  the 
preceding  one,  "that  my  sweet  little  Lillie  hasn't 
her  strong  points  ;  but  governesses  are  so  wretched 
nowadays,  you  know  !  But  you'll  find,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  Miss  Osborne,  that  she  has  made  good 
progress  in  French,  and  she  is  really  a  wonderful 
musician  for  her  age." 


LAKESIDE  HILL,   UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN.  65 

"As  we  shall  soon  have  an  opportunity  of  judging 
for  ourselves,"  said  Colonel  Dalton,  dryly. 

"O,  my  dear  Guy,  I  always  forget  you  don't  like 
compliments:  very  judicious  too,  I'm  sure.  I  per- 
fectly agree  with  you  myself.  Dear,  dear !  I  shan't 
have  a  moment's  uneasiness  in  leaving  Lillie  in 
such  excellent  hands." 

"I'm  only  afraid  she'll  be  homesick  with  us,"  said 
grandmamma,  in  her  kindly  fashion. 

"O,  my  dear  Mrs.  Osborne,  I'm  sure  that  is  im- 
possible—  though  Lillie,  I  am  afraid,  has  too  much 
taste  for  gayety.  New  York  is  such  a  place  for 
children  to  grow  up  in  !  But  I  don't  mean,"  ran  on 
Mrs.  Melville,  "that  there  is  any  danger  of  Lillie's 
finding  it  quiet  here.  How  should  she,  with  such  a 
houseful  of  young  gentlemen?  But  don't  let  me 
hear  of  your  flirting,  Lillie,"  shaking  her  head  at 
her  niece.  "I  am  a  little  afraid  of  Mr.  Arthur, 
here— he  looks  like  a  sad  flirt!" 

Lillie  tossed  her  head  with  the  same  disdainful 
look  on  her  mouth;  but  she  blushed,  nevertheless, 
and  glanced  at  Arthur,  looking  very  pretty  as  she 
did  so.  As  for  that  young  gentleman,  his  vanity 
a-;;s  to  tickled  by  Mrs.  Melville's  speech  that  he 
5 


66 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


blushed  too,  and  looked  much  pleased  and  rather 
silly,  as  he  made  a  little  bow  to  Miss  Lillie.  Bob 
"  pished  and  pshawed  "  to  himself  in  his  remote  seat 
during  these  proceedings,  and  Colonel  Dalton  rose 
abruptly  and  walked  to  the  window. 

"Yes;  he  looks  quite  like  a  dangerous  young 
man,  I  think,"  pursued  Mrs.  Melville,  noticing  the 
effect  of  her  former  speech  on  the  young  folks ; 
"and  I  should  recommend  you,  Lillie,  to  cultivate 
the  acquaintance  of  his  younger  brother  instead  — 
Master  Bob,  I  mean.  Where  is  he?  O,  over  there, 
in  the  window  !  lie  doesn't  look  as  if  he  meant  to 
break  any  young  lady's  heart  one  of  these  days,  and 
I  don't  believe  he  cares  much  for  young  ladies.  Do 
you,  Master  Bob?" 

"Girls?  Yes;  some  of  them,"  said  Bob,  with 
characteristic  bluntness,  and  with  an  emphasis  which 
was  not  too  polite. 

"O,  dear!"  said  the  lady,  turning  away  with  an 
affected  little  laugh.  "I'm  afraid  Master  Bob  is 
a  sarcastic  young  man  —  isn't  he?"  to  Mr.  Osborne. 

"He  does  not  always  keep  his  tongue  in  the  best 
control,  I  fear,"  said  grandpapa,  somewhat  sternly, 
for  little  as  he  liked  silly  Mrs.  Melville,  his  old- 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


fashioned  ideas  of  the  courtesy  due  to  ladies  were 
offended  by  Bob's  brusque  tone. 

"How  very  unlike  for  brothers!"  said  Mrs.  Mel- 
ville,  glancing  from  Bob  to  Arthur.  "I  think 
Master  Bob  must  be  like  his  father,  though  I  only 
dimly  remember  Mr.  Stanley  as  a  young  man, 
before  he  was  engaged  to  poor  Fanny." 

« There  is  no  one  I  would  rather  grow  to  be 
like,  if  I  were  you,  Bob,"  said  Colonel  Dalton, 
who  was  standing  near  Bob's  window.  And  the 
boy,  who  had  pressed  His  lips  hard  together  to 
keep  from  saying  something  curt  at  what  he  thought 
disparaging  mention  of  his  father,  looked  up  grate- 
fully and  smiled  in  Colonel  Dalton's  face,  loving 
him  more  than  ever  for  his  speech. 

"And  now  I  must  be  beginning  my  adieux," 
said  Mrs.  Melville,  rising,  "though  I  put  off  the 
moment  of  bidding  my  sweet  little  Lillie  farewell 
as  long  as  I  can;  but,  my  dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  and 
Miss  Osborne,  I  assure  you,  I  feel  so  happy  to 
leave  her  in  your  hands,  if  I  must  leave  her 
at  all!  Good  by!  And  Mr.  Arthur,  if  I  should 
meet  jour  father  and  mother  abroad,  I  shall  con- 
gratulate them  on  having  such  a  young  man  for 


68 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


a  son,  and  tell  them,  too,  what  a  snub  their  witty 
Master  Bob  gave  me.  Good  by,  little  twins ! 
And  now,  Guy,"  leading  up  Lillie  to  him  in  very 
dramatic  style,  "I  leave  my  -  precious  little  lily- 
flower  with  her  brother,  and  only  tell  him  not 
to  be  too  hard  with  the  little  tender  plant.  He 
must  remember  that  these  little  buds  need  a 
great  deal  of  sunshine  and  delicate  handling, 
and  the  frost  of  stern  looks  and  grave  words 
wilts  them." 

"I  hope  Lillie's  brother  will  do  his  very  best  by 
his  little  sister,  aunt  Melville,"  said  the  young 
soldier,  quietly,  taking  no  notice  of  the  lady's 
flowery  metaphor.  His  tone  was  grave,  but  there 
was  the  least  little  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he  said 
the  words,  and  he  looked  down  at  Lillie  very 
kindly  as  he  clasped  her  little  hand  in  his.  As 
for  the  young  lady  herself,  she  received  all  her 
aunt's  fond  adieux  and  embraces  very  coolly,  — 
as  indeed  she  did  everything, — returning  Mrs, 
Melville's  kisses  prettily,  but  without  any  abate- 
ment of  the  self-possession  she  had  maintained 
from  hex  entrance.  As  the  door  closed  on  Mrs. 
Melville,  Geoffrey,  who  had  been  looking  on  with 


LAKESIDE  HILL,  UP  STAIRS  AND  DOWN. 


big  eyes  at  the  parting  scene,  expecting  perhaps 
to  see  the  fine  young  lady  cry,  whispered  to  Jim- 
mie  his  conviction  that  "  she  didn't  care  one 
bit." 

"Well,  what  did  you  think  of  them?"  said 
Arthur  to  Bob,  when  Lillie  Dalton  had  gone  up 
stairs  with  grandmamma  and  cousin  Sue,  and  the 
boys  were  alone  in  the  parlor. 

"I  thought  Mrs.  Melville  a  silly,  affected,  fine 
lady,  and  Lillie  Dalton  a  stuck-up,  over-dressed 
doll,"  was  Bob's  very  candid  reply.  "The  bare 
idea  of  naming  her  in  the  same  breath  with  our 
Lillie  !  " 

"And  I  thought  she  was  the  prettiest  little  girl 
I  had  ever  seen,"  said  Arthur,  who  felt  fifteen  a 
very  old  and  important  age,  since  Mrs.  Melville 
had  called  him  Mr. 

"Pretty*  enough,"  said  Bob,  "if  she  would  only 
let  her  eyes  alone,  and  not  mince  at  herself  in 
the  looking-glass.  O,  Colonel  Dalton,  I  beg  your 
pardon,"  in  dismay,  as  Guy  came  slowly  walking 
towards  them  from  the  dark  back  parlor,  where 
he  must  have  heard  every  word. 

"Don't  apologize,"  said  Colonel  Dalton;  "you 


70 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


could  not  know  I  was  within  hearing."  But  Bob 
was  crimson,  and  relapsed  into  a  fit  of  shyness, 
which  was  a  sufficient  cloak  for  his  design  of 
avoiding  Lillie  Dalton  all  the  rest  of  the  evening. 


71 

LILLIE  DALTON.  tL 


M1 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LILLIE  DALTON. 

R.  OSBORNE  always  liked  to  have  breakfast 
_  blight  and  early,  and  as  the  elder  boys  had 
to  eateh  the  first  train  to  be  in  time  for  school, 
the  young  faees  were  generally  round  the  breakfast 
table  pretty  punctually.  But  on  the  morning  after 
Lillie  Dalton's  arrival,  there  was  one  place  vacant, 
and  that  was  the  new  comer's. 

«I  don't  see  our  little  stranger,"  said  grandpapa, 
on  whom  Lillie's  beauty  and  self-possessed  bear- 
ing had  made  quite  a  favorable  impression  the 
night  before.  "Did  you  let  her  oversleep  herself, 
Sue?" 

"No,  sir;  she  was  awake  quite  early,"  said  Sue, 
whose 'room  Lillie's  adjoined,  "and  I  thought  1 
left  her  half  dressed.  Perhaps  she  did  not  hear 
the  bell;  I'll  run  up  and  see." 

«  No,  don't ;  I  am  going,"  said  Colonel  Dalton, 


72 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


rising  so  quickly  that  Sue  had  hardly  time  to 
cross  the  floor  before  they  heard  him  knocking 
at  his  sister's  door  above.  He  was  gone  so  long, 
however,  that  grandpapa,  annoyed  at  the  delay, 
despatched  Sue  in  quest  of  them  both.  On  the 
stairs  she  met  Guy,  with  such  an  expression  of 
vexation  and  mortification  on  his  face,  that  she 
stopped  involuntarily. 

"What  is  it?"  said  she,  brightly.  "Is  Lillie  in 
any  trouble?  " 

"  Some  difficulty  —  about  her  hair,  I  believe," 
said  he,  hesitating,  in  evident  embarrassment.  "1 
am  sorry  to  have  you  annoyed,  but  could  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  go  to  her?  My  aunt  has  so  petted 
and  spoiled  the  child,  that  she  can't  do  the  slightest 
thing  for  herself." 

w  Certainly  I'll  go,"  said  Sue,  and  ran  up  stairs 
before  Guy  had  time  to  thank  her. 

Before  the  glass  stood  Lillie,  in  her  little  crimson 
dressing-gown,  with  her  pretty,  fair  hair,  half 
combed,  half  curled,  hanging  over  her  shoulders. 
She  held  a  brush  in  her  hand,  and  was  making 
evident  efforts  to  finish  the  operation  of  curling 
her  hair,  but  with    such   poor   success,  that  she 


LTLLTE  D ALTON. 


73 


grew   more   and    more    angry    with    every  fresh 
failure. 

"Let  me  help  you,"  said  Sue's  pleasant  voice. 

She  turned  round  quickly.  "O,  are  you  there, 
Miss  Osborne?"  blushing.  "I'm  so  sorry  you 
came  up.  But  Guy  is  so  unreasonable!  He  has 
been  insisting  that  I  should  go  down  to  breakfast 
just  as  1  am— just  as  if  I  could,  looking  so  like 
a  fright ! "  and  she  gave  an  angry  twitch  to  her 
tangled  hair. 

Sue  took  the  brush  from  her  hand.  "I  ought 
to  have  asked  if  you  wanted  any  help,"  said  she, 
soothingly.  "Your  hair  is  so  long  and  thick  that 
it  must  be  hard  to  manage  it  yourself." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  said  the  young 
lady,  a  little  loftily.  "  Aunt  Bella's  maid  always 
did  it  at  home;  and  just  because  I  find  it  hard 
to  do  at  first,  myself,  Guy  comes  up,  insisting  I 
shall  come  down  just  as  I  am  !  " 

"Suppose,"  said  Sue,  gently,  "you  let  me  put  it 
up  for  you  in  this  net,  —  just  for  this  one  morning, 
—  because  your  breakfast  will  be  cold,  and  my 
grandfather  does  not  like  to  see  empty  places  at 
table.    Then  after  breakfast  I  will  come  up  and 


74 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


curl  it  for  you  nicely,  and  in  a  very  short  time  I 
can  teach  you  to  do  it  for  yourself.    Shall  1?" 

Li  I  lie  submitted,  though  with  such  a  very  bad 
grace,  that  Sue  no  longer  wondered  at  Guy's 
anxiety  to  remove  his  sister  from  an  atmosphere 
where  undue  value  of  her  own  beauty  seemed  the 
chief  thing  inculcated. 

The  dressing  was  quickly  finished,  and  they 
descended  to  the  dining-room,  Lillie  extremely 
conscious  of  the  absence  of  her  long  ringlets.  She 
scarcely  stopped  to  reply  to  the  good  mornings 
which  greeted  her,  before  she  turned  to  Mrs. 
Osborne  to  say,  —  with  an  odd  mixture  of  young- 
lady  dignity  and  childish  pique,  —  "I  ought  to 
apologize  for  my  appearance ;  but  I  got  delayed 
this  morning,  and  had  not  time  to  curl  my  hair." 

w  Indeed,  my  dear,  I  did  not  notice  that  you 
looked  any  differently,"  said  grandmamma,  quietly. 
"  But  now  you  speak  of  it,  I  think  the  net  is 
much  prettier  and  simpler  for  the  morning." 

Lillie  bridled  a  little  at  this  speech,  and  glanced 
at  Avih  it  to  see  whether  he  missed  her  curls, 
while  Colonel  Dalton,  who  had  colored  when  Lillie 
made  her  apology,  and  who  still  wore  his  annoyed 


LTLLIE  DALTON. 


75 


look,  scarcely  raised  his  eyes  from  the  newspaper 
all  through  breakfast,  except  to  say,  "Thank  you," 
in  a  low  tone  to  Sue,  as  she  took  her  seat. 

Sue  must  have  thought  sometimes,  during  the 
morning,  of  grandpapa's  promise  of  a  "nice,  gentle 
little  girl "  to  teach  after  her  boy  pupils,  and  smiled 
to  herself  at  the  idea  of  applying  such  words  to 
Lillie  Dalton.    Sue    had    undertaken  the  lessons, 
.  as  at  once  a  pleasure,  and  an  outlet  for  her  untiring 
energies  and  love  of  occupation  ;  but  the  pleasure 
was  almost  all  a  task  this  morning,  with  Lillie  for 
a  pupil.    Whatever  Mrs.  Melville's  governesses  had 
taught  Lillie,  they  had  not  taught  her  application, 
and  not  even  Geoffrey's   attention  was  so  easily 
distracted  as  hers  seemed  to  be.    Then  she  was 
pettish  and  piqued   if   Sue  corrected  her  before 
the  younger  boys,  yet  made  mistakes  of  which 
Geoffrey  would  have  been  ashamed.    French  was 
better  than  the  rest,  for  she  had  a  pretty  accent 
and  read  easily,  but  the  morning  was  a  trial,  and 
Sue  felt  hot  and  tired  when  it  was  over.    It  was 
harder  still  for  her  from  the  fact  that  Guy,  who 
had  taken  lately  to  coming  in  during  lesson  hours 
to  attend  to  Jimmie's  Latin,  was   in  the  room 


7fi 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


during  part  of  the  time.  He  looked  so  mortified 
at  every  fresh  proof  of  his  sister's  injudicious 
training  —  really  seeming  to  wince  at  every  pettish 
word  she  spoke  —  that  Sue  felt  for  him  more  than 
for  herself,  and  labored  to  show  him  that  such  was 
the  case.  But,  in  spite  of  all  disagreeables,  she 
was  conscientious,  and  when  she  undertook  a  thino- 
did  it  thoroughly.  So  Lillie  was  kept  at  her  desk 
long  after  the  boys  were  gone  to  play,  and  it  was 
late  when  she  was  despatched  to  the  piano,  and 
Sue  at  liberty  to  rest,  and  cool  her  flushed  cheeks. 

When  she  descended  to  the  library  dressed  for 
the  five-o'clock  dinner,  Guy  was  standing  on  the 
hearth-rug,  just  visible  by  the  dancing  shadows 
of  the  fire  —  the  only  light  in  the  room.  As  she 
entered  he  half  held  out  his  hand,  and  spoke  imme- 
diately, as  one  does  when  he  has  been  waiting  for 
an  opportunity  to  speak  to  some  one. 

"  Miss  Sue  "  (nobody  ever  called  Sue  Miss  Os- 
borne long),  "Miss  Sue,  I  want  to  tell  you  how 
sorry  and  grieved  I  am  for  your  trouble  with  Lillie 
this  morning." 

"No,  don't,"  said  Sue,  playfully,  going  up  to 
the  fire. 


LILLIE  L>  ALTON. 


77 


"Indeed,"  he  went  on,  gravely,  "I  cannot  allow 
it  to  continue.  Lillie  must  not  make  what  you 
undertook  as  a  pleasure  such  a  task  to  you.  Wheth- 
er she  goes  to  school,  or  whether  I  attend  to  her 
lessons  myself,  I  cannot  permit  her  to  abuse  your 
kindness  again. " 

"Not  if  I  ask  it  as  a  favor?"  Sue  said,  looking 
up  in  his  face  with  a  smile. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  ougMf  not.  I  know  your  sweet 
temper  would  make  the  tax  on  you  as  little  as 
possible;  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am  unwilling 
again  to  expose  myself  to  such  mortification.  I 
feel  all  Lillies  misdemeanors  as  keenly  as  if  they 
were  my  own." 

"My  dear  Colonel  Dalton,"  said  Sue,  more  seri- 
ously, "you  are  too  sensitive.  Now,  will  you  let 
me  say  something  to  you  ?  " 

"Anything  you  please." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Sue,  blushing  a  little,  "I 
think  I  see  how  it  is  going  to  be  with  you  and 
Lillie.  She  has  been  unfortunate  in  her  bringing 
up,  and  now  the  effects  of  it  must  wear  off.  I 
know  they  will  in  time.  Mrs.  Melville  was  right, 
after  all,  in  saying  that  one  mustn't  be  too  harsh 


78 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


with  Lillie,  and  above  all  one  mustn't  have  any  per- 
sonal feeling  about  her.  I  could  see  you  wince  this 
morning  at  every  little  slip  of  hers,  and  I  longed 
then  to  speak  to  you  about  it.  It  is  far  the  best 
way,  if  you  will  only  think  so,  not  to  mind,  but 
just  go  on  quietly  and  bear  with  it  for  a  time.  I 
shall ;  that  is,  if  you  will  let  me  try  Lillie  again, 
and  promise  not  to  mind  if  I  seem  to  be  having  a 
hard  time  just  at  first.    May  I  try  her,  please?" 

Nobody  could  have  withstood  Sue's  sweet  tone 
and  honest  eyes.  At  any  rate  Colonel  Dalton 
couldn't. 

"I  can't  say  no,  if  you  wish  it,"  said  he,  with 
a  smile.  "And,  indeed,  there  is  great  excuse  for 
poor  Lillie.  I  wanted  to  remind  you  this  morning 
that  the  poor  child  has  never  known  what  it  is  to 
have  a  mother." 

"  And  that  is  just  what  I  wished  to  say  to  you," 
said  Sue,  gently. 

Colonel  Dalton  held  out  his  left  hand  to  her 
—  the  right  was  in  the  -sling.  « You  are  very 
kind,"  said  he,  "and  since  you  wish  it,  I  will  not 
keep  Lillie  from  your  good  influence.  If  I  can, 
too,  I  will  dy  to  get  rid  of  some  of  my  own  sett- 


LILLIE  DALTON. 


79 


sitiveiiess  on  the  score  of  the  child.     It  is  a  sort 
of  egotism,  I  believe  —  " 

Just  here  Colonel  Dalton's  speech  was  interrupted 
by  a  little  voice  from  the  corner,  saying,  demurely, 
«I  am  here:  do  you  iniud?"  and  Jimmie's  little 
figure  arose  from  the  sofa. 

"No,  we  don't  mind,  Jimmie,"  said  the  colonel, 
dropping  Sue's  hand  somewhat  suddenly,  however. 
Cousin  Sue  blushed.  "But,  Jimmie,"  putting  his 
arm  on  the  boy's  shoulder,  "  what  were  you  doing 
here  in  the  dark  so  quietly?" 

Jimmie  hung  his  head.  "I  was  dreaming,  I 
believe,"  said  he;  "at  any  rate  I  did  not  find  out 
anybody  was  in  the  room  till  just  now." 

"Day-dreams!"  said  the  colonel;  "well,  is  that 
anything  to  be  ashamed  of?  " 

"Papa  does  not  like  them,"  said  Jimmie,  "and 
I  am  trying  to  break  myself  of  them.  But  to- 
night, after  the  light  went,  I  got  thinking  over 
what  I  had  been  reading  and  doing  to-day,  and 
then  I  heard  Lillie's  name,  and  found  out  that  I 
had  been  thinking  about  her,  too." 
"Thinking  —  what?"  said  Guy. 
"  Why,  I  was  trying  to  fancy,"  said  Jimmie,  col- 


80  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


oring,  "  what  watchword  papa  would  have  given  her 
for  this  winter,  if  she  had  been  with  us  when  we 
had  our  last  Sunday  talk  with  him.  But  I  didn't 
mean  to  talk  about  that.  Please  don't  ask  me  any 
more."  And  seeing  the  tears,  which  rose  to  the 
little  fellow's  eyes  when  he  spoke  of  his  father, 
though  he  turned  away  quickly  to  hide  them, 
Colonel  Dalton  asked  no  questions  about  the  watch- 
words. 

So  Lillie  Dalton  continued  in  the  school-room 
under  cousin  Sue's  guidance,  and  gradually  became 
domesticated  at  Lakeside  Hill.     Spoiled  child  as 
she  was,  she  could  be  very  winning  when  she  chose, 
and  neither  grandpapa  nor  grandmamma  was  in- 
sensible to  her  sweet  manner  and  pretty,  coaxing 
ways  with  her  grave,  elder  brother.    She  played 
very  prettily,  too,  as  Mrs.  Melville  had  said,  and 
grandpapa  liked  to  sit  in  his  easy  chair,  listen  to 
and  look  at  her.    As  for  the  boys,  Jimmie  always 
made  friends  with  everybody;  and  two  days  had 
not  passed  before  Lillie  had  dropped  her  patron- 
izing manner  to  him.    But  Geoffrey  deeply  resented 
both  her  treatment  of  himself,  as  a  little  boy,  and 
her  habit  of  drawing    unfavorable  conmari- 


also 


LILLIE  DALTON. 


81 


sons  between  things  in  New  England  and  New 
York. 

"She  brags  so!"  said  Geoffrey,  aggrieved,  to 
his  twin. 

"Why,  it  doesn't  mean  anything,"  said  the  little 
wisehead  ;  "  she's  only  talking  big,  as  the  boys  do 
sometimes.    I  wouldn't  mind,  Geoffrey." 

With  Bob,  too,  Lillie  Dalton  was  no  favorite. 
He  detested  affectation  in  any  form,  and  he  had 
passed  his  fiat  on  Lillie  the  first  day  of  her  arrival. 
He  gave  her,  accordingly,  as  the  saying  is,  a  *  wide 
berth,"  and  made  himself,  besides,  so  taciturn  in 
her  company,  that  the  little  coquette  did  not  feel 
tempted  to  try  any  of  her  pretty  wiles  upon  him, 
as  she  might  otherwise,  from  sheer  perversity,  have 
done.  But  Arthur  and  she  were  excellent  friends. 
I  think  both  had  been  pleased  with  the  parts  as- 
signed them  by  Mrs.  Melville,  and  both  acted  them 
to  perfection,  —  Arthur  paying  Lillie  all  manner 
of  flattering  little  attentions,  and  Lillie  receiving 
them  with  the  half-indifferent,  half-encouraging  gra- 
ciousness  of  a  reigning  belie. 

One  clear  day  when  there  was  good  skating, — 
November  was   very  cold   this  year,  —  Bob  was 
6 


82 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


skimming  about  on  the  lake,  now  stopping  to  help 
Jimmie,  not  yet  quite  tirm  on  his  feet,  now  exe- 
cuting all  manner  of  graceful  figures  on  the  ice. 
Presently,  looking  up  from  a  most  elaborately 
twisted  cipher  of  R.  O.  S.,  Bob  saw  Lillie  coming 
down  to  the  lake,  looking,  as  usual,  very  pretty 
in  her  blue  skating  jacket  and  cap.  He  had  not 
time,  however,  to  say,  *  Bother ! "  (I  hope,  indeed, 
that  he  did  not  feel  tempted  to  say  it)  ;  for  Lillie, 
after  looking  over  the  ice  for  a  minute,  called  to 
him  to  know  where  Arthur  was. 

"He  has  gone  off  by  this  time,"  said  Bob,  skat- 
ing up ;  w  he  was  going  to  see  a  fellow  on  the 
other  side  of  the  lake/' 

"O,  dear,  why  didn't  he  tell  me?"  said  Lillie, 
disconsolately.  "I  could  have  come  down  earlier 
just  as  well  as  not." 

Arthur,  as  Bob  knew,  always  put  on  Miss  Lillie's 
skates  very  gallantly,  so  that  her  hands  need  not 
get  cold. 

"If  you  wanted  him  to  put  your  skates  on,"  said 
Bob,  —  not  quite  so  gracefully  as  Arthur  would 
have  said  it,  — "I  can  do  it  just  as  well  as  he." 

Lillie  hesitated  a  minute;  she  had  Uen  inclined 


LILL1E  D ALTON, 


83 


to  resent  the  "rough  glum  boy's, "  neglect  of  her- 
self, and  he  might  have  offered  to  help  her  in 
more  gallant  words ;  but  his  brown  eyes  looked 
at  her  so  good-naturedly  under  his  fur  cap,  as  she 
glanced  at  him,  that  she  said,  w  Thank  you,"  with- 
out stopping  to  think,  and  held  out  her  pretty  little 
foot. 

Just  as  Bob  was  buckling  on  the  skates  (and 
Lillie  had  to  own  to  herself  that  he  did  it  quite 
as  quickly  as  Arthur)  a  sleigh  passed,  and  in  it 
was  Colonel  Dalton,  being  driven  out  by  Sue;  his 
arm  was  not  yet  well  enough  for  him  to  hold  the 
reins.  Sue,  who  looked  very  pretty  in  her  little 
brown  hat  and  with  her  fresh  rosy  cheeks,  turned 
when  she  saw  them,  and  called  out  pleasantly  to 
Lillie,  "I  hope  you're  wrapped  up  warmly,  Lillie. 
Skating  will  be  cold  work  this  afternoon." 

w  Warmly  enough  ;  it  isn't  the  first  time  I've  been 
out  skating,"  was  Lillie's  very  ungracious  rejoinder. 

Sue  drove  on  without  a  word,  and  Bob,  who 
had  hv;en  chatting  till  then,  finished  the  buckling 
in  silence.  Lillie  did  feel  a  little  ashamed,  as  her 
own  pettish  tone  came  back  to  her ;  but  as  there 
was  no  need  for  saying  so,  she  accepted  the  end 


84 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


of  the  hockey  which  Bob  offered  her,  and  both 
skated  for  some  minutes  without  speaking. 

K  You  skate  very  nicely,"  said  Bob,  presently, 
finding  the  silence  oppressive  ;  "  wouldn't  you  like 
me  to  teach  you  the  outer  edge?" 

"No,  I  believe  not  this  afternoon,"  said  Lillie  ; 
"it  is  cold,  after  all,  and  very  disagreeable,  skat- 
ing in  this  wind.    I  shan't  stay  out  long." 

Bob  was  proposing  to  amend  matters  by  turning 
their  backs  to  the  wind,  when  Lillie  stopped  short, 
and,  stamping  her  foot,  skate  and  all,  on  the  ice, 
exclaimed  passionately,  "What  business  is  it  of 
hers,  I  should  like  to  know,  whether  I'm  wrapped 
up  or  not ;   I  don't  belong  to  her !  " 

"Nor  deserve  to,  I'm  sure,*'  said  Bob,  coolly, 
"  if  you're  talking  of  cousin  Sue!" 

"As  if  I  were  a  baby,"  Lillie  went  on,  without 
heeding  the  interruption,  "and  couldn't  tell  whether 
it  was  hot  or  cold  !    I  wish  she  would  let  me  alone  ! " 

"I  wish  she  would,  I'm  sure,"  said  Bob,  indig- 
nantly, "  if  that  is  the  way  you  speak  of  her. 
What  is  there  to  be  in  such  a  passion  about,  I 
should  like  to  know,  in  her  asking  whether  you 
were  wrapped  up  warmly?" 


LILLIE  D ALTON. 


85 


LILLIE  AND  BOB. 


"It  wasn't  this  thing  only,"  said  Lillie,  her  blue 
eyes  flashing  like  steel ;  w  it's  the  way  she  speaks 
to  me  always,  — as  if  she  wanted  to  turn  me  round 
her  little  finger,  as  she  does  everybody  else.  I 
suppose  she  thinks  she  can  do  anything  with  me 
because  I'm  Guy's  sister ;  but  I'll  show  her  that 
I  won't  stand  it  much  longer ! " 

"I'm  sure  /  can't  stand  this  much  longer!  "  said 
Bob,  indignantly  ;  K  what  do  you  mean,  Lillie  Dalton  ?  " 


86 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"I  mean,"  said  Liliie,  hotly,  "that  she's  trying 
to  get  my  brother  away  from  me  ;  and  I  hate  her 
for  it  ! " 

"Take  care,  Miss  Liliie,"  said  Bob;  "I  can't 
hear  such  things  said  of  cousin  Sue.  Take  your 
brother  away  from  you,  —  what  do  you  mean?" 

"My  own  dear,  brave,  splendid  soldier  brother!" 
said  Liliie,  on  the  verge  of  a  sob.  "And  just  as 
I  get  him  back,  and  want  to  make  him  love  me 
a  little,  in  she  comes,  and  carries  him  off  from 
me.  What  business  has  she  to  drive  him  out, 
and  take  care  of  him,  I  should  like  to  know  — 
my  brother  !  " 

The  tears  flowed  down  Lillie's  cheeks,  and  Bob's 
heart  softened  towards  her. 

"Aren't  you  a  little  unreasonable,  Liliie?"  said 
he,  gently;  "you  know  you  couldn't  drive  out 
Colonel  Dalton,  if  cousin  Sue  were  in  China  this 
very  minute.  As  to  saying  she  wants  to  carry 
him  off  from  you,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"Of  course  you  don't,"  said  Liliie,  impatiently. 
"You  can't  know  how  much  I  love  Guy." 

"  I  know,  at  any  rate,  how  much  /  love  him,' 
said  Bob,  quickly,  coloring  up  to  the  eyes. 


LILLIE  D ALTON. 


87 


«  Do  you  ?  "  said  Lillic,  looking  at  him  wonder- 
ingly,  astonished  at  such  a  confession  from  the 
"rough"  boy. 

It  would,  perhaps,  have  been  as  well  if  they  had 
stopped  here  ;  but  Bob  felt  a  little  twinge  of  bash- 
fulness  after  having  thus  betrayed  his  hero-wor- 
ship, and,  to  hide  it,  went  back  to  his  former 
tone. 

« But  if  you  love  Colonel  Dalton,  Lillie,  you 
have  an  odd  way  of  showing  it;  and,  as  to  making 
him  love  you,  I  think  you  might  find  some  better 
way  than  speaking  so  to  any  one  he  likes." 

This  speech  roused  all  Lillie's  jealousy  again. 
"I  didn't  ask  you  to  tell  me  how  to  make  my 
brother  love  me,"  said  she.  The  hot  flush  on  her 
cheeks  had  dried  up  all  her  tears  now,  and  drop- 
ping the  end  of  Bob's  hockey,  she  skated  away 
from  him. 

Bob  followed,  heartily  sorry  for  his  hasty  words. 
"I  beg  your  pardon,  Lillie:  won't  you  come  and 
•skate  with  me  again  ?  " 

But  Lillie  declared  it  was  cold,  and  very  stupid 
work;  so  the  only  reparation  Bob  could  make  was 
to  take  off   her   skates  for  her,  and  then  stand 


88 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


watching  her,  with  a  very  sober  face,  as  she  walked 
towards  home. 

Lillie  entered  the  library  with  all  sorts  of  bad 
passions  struggling  in  her  poor  little  heart.  With 
all  her  little  affectation  of  coldness  and  indifference, 
she  had  a  very  warm,  passionate  nature,  and  a 
heart  that  fairly  cried  out  to  be  loved ;  only  in 
aunt  Melville's  house  there  was  no  room  for  these 
things  to  show  themselves.  But  when  her  soldier 
brother  came  back  to  her,  —  the  brother  whom 
she  had  hardly  known  before,  —  Lillie's  ardent 
fancy  made  a  hero  of  him,  gloried  in  his  wounds 
and  his  honors,  and  secretly  idolized  him.  Guy 
never  dreamed  of  it.  So  when  they  came  to  Lake- 
side Hill,  and  Lillie  saw,  or  fancied  she  saw,  that 
Guy  cared  for  Sue  Osborne,  her  undisciplined  little 
heart  was  filled  wTith  the  bitterest  jealousy,  and 
she  almost  hated  Sue. 

She  entered  the  library,  and  stopped,  for  on  the 
sofa  her  brother  was  lying,  with  his  eyes  shut. 
The  firelight  fell  full  on  his  face,  and  she  saw 
how  pale  he  looked.  Softly  she  stole  on  tiptoe 
to  the  sofa,  and  stood  holding  her  breath  and 
looking   iit    him.    His  wound  was  far  from  well 


LILLIK  D ALTON. 


89 


yet,  and  as  she  stood  there,  she  thought  she  saw 
a  look  of  pain  cross  his  face.  It  made  her  remem- 
ber, in  a  flash,  how  near  she  had  been  to  losing 
him,  — how  far  from  certain  it  was  that  she  might 
not  lose  him  even  now.  And  if  she  should,  what 
had  she  ever  done  to  make  him  love  her?  The 
thought  was  too  much  for  poor  Lillie,  and  as  hex 
brother  opened  his  eyes,  — for  he  had  not  been 
asieep, —  she  threw  herself  upon  his  breast  in  a 
perfect  storm  of  sobs  and  tears. 

"Guidie!    O,  my  own  dear,  dear  brother  Guy!" 
"Why,  Lillie,  what  is  all  this?"  said  her  brother, 
feeling  the  tears  start  to   his  own   eyes,  as  she 
clasped  him  in  her  arms. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  hate  me  ! "  sobbed  Lillie. 
"And  why  should  I,  my  dear  little  sister?"  said 
Guy,  getting  the  troublesome  arm  out  of  the  way, 
and  putting  the  other  round  Lillie. 

"Because  I  am  so  wicked,  and  have  such  a 
temper.  I  want  you  to  forgive  me  for  it,  and  for 
speaking  so  to  Miss  Osborne." 

"Don't  you  think,  Lillie,  it  would  be  a  good 
plan  to  say  that  to  her?"  asked  Guy,  rathei 
gravely. 


90 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Perhaps  so  —  some  time  —  but,  Guidie,  I  want 
to  say  it  to  you  now  — I  want  you  to  forgive  me 
■ —  [  want  you  to  love  me — O,  I  can't  bear  to 
think  of  your  going  away  from  me!" 

"Nobody  thinks  of  iry  going  yet,  you  know," 
said  Guy,  trying  to  laugh,  because  Lillie  made 
him  feel  like  crying.  "  This  arm  of  mine  is  going 
to  keep  me  here  a  long  time  yet." 

Lillie  was  ashamed  to  confess  that  she  had  been 
afraid  something  else  might  take  him  away. 

"But  you  don't  care  for  me,"  she  said,  mourn- 
fully ;  "  and  it  is  my  own  fault,  because  I  don't 
take  the  best  way  to  make  you.  But  I  do  love 
you  dearly,  and  you're  all  I've  got !  " 

"  And  you're  all  I've  got  —  aren't  you  ? "  said 
her  brother,  playfully,  pulling  her  head  down  to 
his  shoulder.  "But,  Lillie,  dear,  I  don't  believe 
we  either  of  us  take  the  best  way  to  make  our- 
selves loved.  Can't  you  try,  my  little  sister,  to 
be  less  petulant  and  passionate,  and  try  to  seem 
to  care  for  other  people  as  much  as  I  believe 
you  really  do?  And  then,  if  you  see  me  grave 
and  cold,  as  you  think,  don't  say  to  yourself  that 
I  don't  care  for  you,   because   it  isn't  so.    I  do 


LILLIE  DALTON. 


91 


lov<  you  just  as  much  as  you  can  possibly  love 
me,  only  I  feel  grieved  when  you  are  as  you 
have  been  here,  and  speak  as  you  did  this  after- 
noon. I  know  each  of  us  is  all  the  other  has;  so 
we  ought  to  take  care  to  make  that  all  a  great 
deal  —  oughtn't  we?" 

Guy  kissed  her  cheek  as  he  spoke,  and  Lillie 
clasped  her  arm  round  his  neck.  Then  they  lay 
still  so  long  in  this  position,  that  when  Bob  came 
in  whistling,  cold  and  rosy  from  skating,  he  found 
them  both  fast  asleep.  He  stopped  his  whistling 
in  the  very  middle  of  a  note,  stood  still  a  minute 
to  look  at  them,  then  crept  out  of  the  room  on 
the  tips  of  his  toes. 


92 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTEB  V. 


THANKSGIVING  AND  THE  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G.  T." 

^  I II I A  N  K  S  G I V I X  G  ?  I  need  not  say,  was  a  gala 


JL  day  at  Lakeside  Hill,  —  it  always  is  when 
there  is  a  grandfather's  house  to  eat  the  Thanks- 
giving dinner  at,  and  plenty  of  grandchildren  to 
come  to  it.  Each  one  of  Mr.  Osborne's  grand- 
children had  in  turn,  as  a  child,  counted  the  days 
intervening  between  the  first  of  November  and 
that  long-expected  festival,  —  and  even  when  past 
the  age  for-  such  childishness,  every  grandchild 
still  looked  forward  to  it  as  a  gala  clay. 

Accordingly,  this  particular  Thanksgiving  was 
hailed  with  almost  as  much  joy  by  the  older  in- 
mates of  Lakeside  Hill  as  by  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey. 
True,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  little  Lillie, 
were  away,  but  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins  were 
not  wanting;  and  most  eagerly  looked  lor  among 
the  arrivals  was  that  of  the  remaining  grandchildren 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  w  J.  G.  T."  (J3 

of  the  family,— Jack,  the  young  collegian,  men- 
tioned before  ;  Fanny,  a  bright,  merry  girl  of  six- 
teen ;  and  Charley,  a  year  older  than  the  Stanley 
twins.  Cousin  Jack  was  the  chief  promoter  of 
the  Thanksgiving  fun  and  frolic,  and  Geoffrey  had 
stood  at  the  window,  on  the  eventful  day,  a  long 
time  before  uncle  John  and  his  party  could  be 
reasonably  expected.  - 

M Me  on  a  little  patience,  Geoffie,"  grandmamma 
said,  with  a  smile,  hearing  the  long-drawn  "  Q, 
dear!"  with  which  Geoffrey  contemplated  the 
empty  avenue. 

"But  they  are  so  late,  grandmamma,  and  it  is 
such  a  gray,  dismal-looking  day!  Perhaps  they 
are  not  coming,  after  all,  and  we  can't  have  any 
fun  without  cousin  Jack  and  Fanny!" 

But  these  dismal  forebodings  were  cut  short  by 
a  triumphant  shout  of,  "There  they  are ! "  and 
all  the  children  flew  down  to  the  door,  to  greet 
rapturously  uncle  John,  aunt  Kitty,  Jack,  Fanny, 
and  Charley. 

Cousin  Jack,  like  his  father  before  him,  had 
been  the  mischievous  boy,  whose  tricks  were 
proverbial   in   the  family;   and  now,  though  his 


94  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

nineteen  years,  his  standing  as  a  Sophomore,  and  the 
moustache  he  was  cultivating  so  carefully,  did  not 
allow  him  to  enter  into  the  "  children's  sports  "  with 
quite  such  freedom  as  of  yore,  he  was  still  looked 
upon  as  the  master  of  the  revels.  Fanny  wTas  a 
pretty,  saucy,  dark-eyed  girl,  with  spirits  to  match 
her  brother's,  and  a  great  crony  of  Arthur,  of  whom 
she  was  just  enough  the  senior  to  find  her  chief 
delight  in  teasing  and  patronizing  him.  And  Char- 
ley was  the  companion-in-arms  of  the  twins. 
Other  great-aunts,  uncles,  and  second  cousins 
there  were,  but  the  Osbornes  were  the  most  eager- 
ly welcomed  guests,  —  the  only  ones,  indeed,  near 
the  ages  of  the  Stanley  boys. 

There  was  plenty  to  do  to  wear  away  the  hours 
before  dinner,  —  Lillie  to  be  introduced,  admired, 
and  caressed  by  Fanny,  on  whose  good-natured 
complacency  the  airs  and  dignity  of  the  little  lady 
made  no  impression,  save  one  of  amusement;  the 
kitchen  and  Prissy  to  be  visited,  and  secret  tours 
of  inspection  to  be  made  to  the  pantry  by  the 
more  juvenile  portions  of  the  family.  (Such  stores 
as  Prissy  had  laid  in  !    Such  baking  and  brewing 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G.  T."  95 


as  had  been  going  on  for  days— even  cousin  Sue 
had  been  called  on  for  help!) 

Liilie  Dalton  had  never  had  a  day  of  such  healthy, 
child-like  pleasure  in  her  life;  and  her  brothel 
smiled  to  himself,  or  to  Sue,  several  times  in  the 
course  of  the  morning,  to  see  how  sunny  and  happy 
the  child  seemed  with  the  other  children  — all  her 
petulance  and  her  little  affectations  and  vanities 
laid  aside. 

About  an  hour,  however,  before  the  dinner  bell 
was  expected  to  ring,  a  great  whispering  arose 
among  Arthur,  Fanny,  and  Bob,  and  presently 
they  had  disappeared  mysteriously,  while  Lillie 
found  herself  with  only  the  little  boys  for  com- 
panions. 

"Where  are  they  all,  cousin  Sue?"  she  asked, 
disconsolately  :  she  had,  insensibly,  of  late  caught 
the  name  from  the  Stanleys. 

Sue  shook  her  head,  mysteriously.  "I  rather 
think,"  said  she,  smilingly,  "that  it  is  the  annual 
secret  session  of  the  J.  G.  T.  Club." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Lillie,  pet- 
tishly; "and  I  wish  people  wouldn't  have  secrets 
going  on,  unless  everybody  in  the  company  can 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


know  them  ;  I  always  heard  it  wasn't  polite.  What 
does  J.  G.  T.  stand  for,  cousin  Sue?" 

"Jolly  Good  Time,  I'm  sorry  to  say!"  said 
Sue,  with  a  laughing  glance  at  Guy.  "A  good 
many  years  ago,  Lillie,  when  I  was  qujite  a  little 
girl,  we  got  up  this  club  among  ourselves  to  devise 
amusements  for  Thanksgiving  Day  and  holidays 
generally.  We  used  to  steal  away  by  ourselves, 
just  in  this  way,  to  plan  games  and  surprises  for 
the  evening,  and  then  come  out  at  dinner  time  with 
something  very  original  and  delightful." 

"And  don't  you  belong  now?"  asked  Lillie,  in- 
terested. 

??  No ;  after  one  reaches  the  venerable  age  of 
eighteen,  the  club  thinks  him  or  her  too  old  and 

o  7 

grave :  so  the  members  are  constantly  changing. 
Sometimes,  however,  they  allow  them  to  be  honor- 
ary members  after  eighteen,  if  they  have  been  very 
valuable  <  J.  G.  T.'s,'  like  Mr.  Jack  Osborne,  for 
instance.  I  remember,  when  I  was  a  child,  it  was 
the  greatest  desire  of  all  the  children  in  the  family 
to  be  twelve  years  old,  that  they  might  belong." 

"I'm  twelve!"  said  Lillie,  eagerly.  "Don't  you 
think  they'd  let  me  in?" 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G.  T."  97 


"Perhaps  by  and  by  you'll  be  voted  in,"  said  Sue. 

But  Lillie's  curiosity  and  interest  had  been  strong- 
ly awakened.  The  pink  flush  in  her  cheeks  deep- 
ened, and  her  blue  eyes  sparkled,  as  she  looked 
up,  saying,  earnestly,  "But  I  want  to  belong  now 
—  this  very  minute.  O,  cousin  Sue,  don't  you 
think  they'd  let  me  in  if  I  went  now,  this  very 
minute,  and  told  them  I  was  twelve?5' 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  said  Sue,  gently,  her  cheeks 
flushing  a  little,  as  she  saw  Guy  look  up,  "you 
wouldn't  want  to  go,  you  know,  before  you  were 
asked.  Charley,  and  Jimmie,  and  Geoffrey  are 
content  to  wait." 

"But  they  are  children!  "  cried  Lillie,  passionately. 
"/  am  old  enough,  —  I'm  twelve  now,  —  and  I  think 
it  very  mean  and  rude  of  them  to  go  off  and  leave 
me,  and  very  unkind  of  you  not  to  tell  them  to 
have  me  !  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it  now,  Lillie,  you 
know,"  said  Sue,  still  gently. 

At  the  first  sound  of  his  sister's  voice,  rising  in 
anger  in  her  last  speech,  Colonel  Dalton  got  up  and 
left  the  room.  He  had  to  do  it  sometimes,  if  he 
wanted  to  keep  his  promise  to  Sue  of  not  having 
7 


98 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


any  personal  feelings  about  Lillie.  As  he  passed 
her,  however,  he  gave  her  just  the  least  little  bit 
of  a  glance  ;  it  was  hardly  a  second  that  his  eye 
rested  on  her,  but  it  brought  back  to  her,  in  an  in- 
describable way,  that  evening  when  she  lay  on  the 
sofa  in  his  arms ;  and  before  Sue's  soft  answer 
came,  her  wrath  was  turned  aside. 

"I  know  it,"  said  she,  in  a  changed  voice ;  and  un- 
able to  get  any  further,  so  vividly  did  Guy's  glance 
rise  up  before  her,  she  abruptly  left  the  room. 

"  Little  fury  !  "  said  a  voice  from  the  deep-cur- 
tained window-seat. 

Sue  turned  quickly.  "  O,  Jack,  are  you  there? 
I  hope  Lillie  did  not  see  you ;  the  poor  child  would 
never  get  over  her  mortification  ! " 

"J. hope  she  did,"  said  Mr.  Jack,  rising.  "The 
little  hypocrite !  To  think  that  the  little  soft- 
spoken,  sweet-voiced  pussy,  who  came  mincing  up 
to  me,  an  hour  ago,  with  her  pretty  little  airs  and 
graces,  could  fly  into  such  a  rage  as  that !  " 

"She  came  out  of  it  very  quickly,"  said  Sue, 
coloring.  "But,  Jack,"  —  changing  the  subject 
quickly,  —  "I  thought  you  were  -vUu  the  f  J.  G.  T,1 
How  did  you  come  here  ?  " 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J,  G.  T."  99 


wO,  I  preferred  a  quiet  cigar,"  said  Mr.  Jack, 
nonchalantly;  "but  I'm  not  sure  that  I  won't  look 
in  upon  them  now,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  captain 
Fanny  makes."  And  off  he  went,  leaving  Sue  very 
much  grieved  that  her  little  pupil  should  have  been 
seen  at  such  an  unfavorable  time  by  any  stranger. 
Troublesome  as  Lillie  was  to  her,  she  was  growing 
very  fond  of  her.  Atiast  the  dinner  bell  rang,  and 
there  was  a  rush  of  expectant  youngsters.  True  to 
their  desire  of  having  a  good  appetite  for  the  turkey 
and  plum-pudding,  they  had  staunchly  resisted  offers 
of  luncheon,  and  were  fully  justified  now  in  being 
hungry. 

The  long  table  was,  indeed,  a  goodly  sight —  the 
white  cloth  covered  with  smoking  dishes,  grand- 
mamma smiling  at  the  head,  grandpapa  beaming  at 
the  foot  of  the  table,  a  long  array  of  aunts  and 
cousins  between. 

For  the  young  people  a  small  table  was  placed  in 
the  corner  —  a  time-out-of-mind  custom  in  the  Os- 
borne family,  and  heartily  appreciated  by  the  young- 
sters, as  they  could  then  have  their  fast  and  furious 
fun,  unchecked  by  the  presence  of  their  elders.  And 
many  were  the  commiserations  bestowed  upon  Sue, 


100 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


whose  twenty-one  years  had  banished  her  from  the 
"Young  Folks'  Table."  Loud,  too,  were  the  accla- 
mations when  Jack  Osborne  took  his  seat  among 
them  ;  he  had  been  the  life  of  that  little  table  for 
many  Thanksgivings,  and  more  than  one  of  them 
had  felt  a  pang  of  apprehension  as  he  noted  the  cane, 
the  moustache,  the  growing  preference  for  Sue's 
society  over  theirs,  and  remembered  that  cousin 
Jack  had  outgrown  the  "J.  G.  T."  Would  he  still 
sit  at  the  Young  Folks'  Table?  A  joyful  "Yes" 
was  the  answer,  and  even  Fanny  joined  in  the 
shout;  for,  stout-hearted  as  she  was,  she  had  felt 
a  little  uneasiness  at  the  possibility  of  having  to 
wear  Jack's  fallen  mantle  at  that  table.  The  fun 
was  fast  and  furious,  indeed,  under  Jack's  lead,  and 
such  peals  of  laughter  greeted  his  jokes,  that  the 
old  folks  caught  the  infection,  and  laughed  almost 
as  much  as  the  rest.  There  was  not  a  sober  face 
for  a  moment  among  the  young  folks,  except,  per- 
haps, the  moment  when  Jimmie  thought  of  papa  and 
mamma  hundreds  of  miles  away,  or  Bob  felt  a  little 
pang  at  missing  his  little  Lillic  in  her  high  chair 
at  his  elbow.  And  then,  before  the  end  of  the 
moment,  both  Bob  and  Jimmie  remembered  papa's 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G.  T."  101 


"Keep  brave  hearts  and  bright  faces,"  and  smiled 
again. 

Through  turkey  and  chicken-pie,  plum-pudding, 
and  pies  innumerable,  they  worked  their  way  to 
dessert,  when,  by  a  certain  whispering  and  laugh- 
ing, and  suppressed  excitement  among  the  "J.  G. 
T.'s,"  it  became  evident  that,  in  the  vulgar  parlance, 
"  something  was  in  the  wind."  Besides  the  dishes 
of  fruit,  there  was  candy,  and  among  it  certain  large 
pink  cockle-shells,  which,  on  inspection,  proved  to 
bear  the  names  of  "Lillie,"  "  Arthur,"  and  the  other 
feasters,  in  small,  inked  letters.  Great  curiosity 
wTas  of  course  excited. 

"  Why,  I've  got  two  !  "  cried  Lillie,  flushed  with 
delight. 

"You  mayn't  like  them,"  said  cousin  Jack,  grimly. 
"  Some  have  pepper  inside." 

But  Lillie,  undeterred,  opened  her  cockle-shell 
forthwith,  and  drew  out  a  little  folded  paper. 

"Why,  it's  poetry!"  said  she. 

"  Well,  read  it  aloud,"  said  the  master  of  ceremo- 
nies ;  "  and  remember  that  everything  issued  by  the 
f  J.  G.  TV  is  to  be  received  in  perfect  good  under- 
Standing  and  good  faith  by  the  members  thereof, 


102 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


and  by  all  possible  candidates  for  admission  to  the 
Club." 

Thus  admonished,  Lillie  opened  and  read,— 

Little  Miss  Lillie, 

Don't  be  silly, 
Affected,  word  or  tone: 

There's  an  old  saw 

You've  heard  before, 
Which  says,  "  Let  well  alone.* 

"Well"  means  for  you  — 

Such  is  ray  view  — 
Yourself,  simple  and  loving; 

And  each  new  air 

Does  but  impair, 
What  did  not  need  improving! 

"That's  Bob,  I'm  sure,"  said  Jimmie ;  but  he  was 
sorry  he  had  said  it  the  next  minute,  for  Lillie 
looked  across  the  table  at  Bob,  with  a  momentary 
flash  of  her  eyes.  Seeming,  however,  to  remember 
Jack's  warning,  she  commanded  herself  by  an  unu- 
sual effort,  and  only  said,  — 

"I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Bob,  for  thinking 
me  affected  and  silly  !  " 

"He  didn't  say  that,"  said  Arthur  ("Genera] 
Apropos,"  as  Fanny  sometimes  called  him).  "He 
only  warned  you  not  to  be  so.    And  I  am  sure  lie? 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G.  T." 


paid  you  a  very  delicate  compliment  in  saying  that 
you  did  not  ueed  improving." 
Lillie  smiled  again. 

"Besides,"  said  Fanny,  "even  if  it  hadn't  been 
flattering,  why,  it's  half  the  fun,  you  know,  to  hit 
one  another's  weak  points.  Come,  Arthur,  read 
yours  !  " 

"I  think  your  impatience  is  suspicious,  Mistress 
Fanny,"  said  Arthur;  and  he  read, — 

Now,  who's  this  young  man,  I  should  like  you  to  guess, 

With  the  passable  face  and  the  very  fine  dress. 

With  his  spotless  white  linen,  and  boots  freshly  blacked, 

You'd  think  from  a  bandbox  he'd  just  been  unpacked; 

With  his  pretty  politeness,  his  dandified  air, 

His  charming  low  bow,  and  that  calm  savoir  faire, 

He's  a  very  fine  fellow  —  with  only  one  flaw  — 

If  he  thought  of  it  less,  other  people  would  more. 

A  shout  of  laughter  greeted  this  effusion;  and 
"Bravo,  Fanny!"  said  her  brother;  "that's  really 
o-ood.  I  shall  have  a  worthy  successor  to  fill  my 
place  as  Ludimagister  !  " 

It  is  undeniable  that  the  verse  contained  some 
pretty  hard  hits  at  Arthur ;  but  he  kept  his  temper 
admirably,  and  only  said,  with  one  of  his  "  charm- 
ino-  low  bows"  to  Fanny,  "Take  care,  Miss  Sauce- 


104 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


box;  I  rather  think  you'll  find  your  pay  for  that 
attack  on  my  good  name  !  " 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  saucy  Fanny ;  and  opening 
her  shell,  she  read,— 

No  rose,  they  say,  without  its  thorn : 

Yet  who  would  not  be  fain 
To  own  the  rose,  of  prickles  shorn, 

A  double  charm  would  gain? 
So,  Fanny,  though  we  prize  your  grace, 
Your  ready  wit,  and  pretty  face, 
These  charms  were  worthier  to  be  sung, 
Minus  that  member  sharp,  your  tongue ! 

"Thank  you,  Arty,"  said  Fanny;  "I'm  sure,  far 
from  being  what  I  deserve,  it  is  a  very  pretty  piece 
of  gallantry,  and  I  shall  preserve  it  in  lavender, 
with  your  photograph." 

"Very  pretty,  Arthur,"  repeated  grandpapa,  from 
the  other  table  ;  "I  must  say  I  fancy  such  a  thing  as 
that  better  than  the  sharp  attacks  on  each  other's 
weak  points  you  young  folks  seem  fond  of  making. 
But  look !  Sue  seems  to  have  got  one,  though  that 
is  quite  out  of  bounds,  I  should  think,  for  an  'old 
folk.'    Read  it,  Sue." 

"I  hardly  think  it  is  meant  for  the  public  oar," 
said  Sue,  hesitating  a  little.     She  had  been  gkux* 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  eeJ,  G.  T."  105 


cing  over  it.  "But  if  every  one  promises  to  remem- 
ber the  stipulation  of  the  ?  J.  G.  T.,'  and  take  every- 
thing in  good  part,  I'll  read." 

Everybody  promised,  and  Sue  read,  coloring  a 
little,  — 

Cousin  Sue, 

If  I  were  you, 
I  wouldn't  be  too  mild. 

Say,  "Yes"  and  "No," 

"  You  must  do  so ;  " 
That's  the  way  to  treat  a  child. 

Believe  a  friend ; 

You'll  find,  in  the  end, 
All  sweetness  doesn't  pay. 

A  timely  scold  - 

Or,  so  I  hold  ■ — 
She'll  thank  you  for,  some  day. 

"Whew  !  "  said  grandpapa  ;  "  that  is  a  little  sharp, 
I  think." 

"It's  too  bad,"  said  Lillie,  a  little  inclined  to  cry, 
"  for  Bob  to  write  so  about  me  twice  ! " 

**-I'9"  cried  Bob.  "I  give  you  my  word  of  honor 
it  wasn't  I !  It  was  an  anonymous  composition, 
sent  in  at  the  last  moment.    Wasn't  it,  f  J.  G.  T.'s'?" 

The  members  of  the  Club  unanimously  respond- 
ing in  the  affirmative,  Lillie  only  said,  "Well,  it 


iOG 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


sounds  like  the  one  Bob  did  write  !  "  and  further 
appeased  by  Jiminie's  whispered,  "It's  Thanks- 
giving, you  know,  Lillie  !  "  managed  to  put  on  a 
bright  face,  and  to  be  pleased  with  a  pretty  little 
verse  which  Arthur  had  written  her  - —  something 
about  flowers  in  general,  and  lilies  in  particular, 
of  course. 

Meanwhile  cousin  Sue  had  taken  her  pencil, 
and  writing  in  her  little  pocket-book  for  a  few 
minutes,  contrived  to  toss  it  over  to  Jack,  un- 
observed by  the  others.  He  picked  it  up,  and 
read  with  rather  a  shamefaced  expression,  — 

My  wise  young  friend,  since  at  your  age  so  much  you  know, 
Did  you  never  chance  to  hear  this  axiom,  "  Time  will  show"  ? 
Or,  in  some  talk  like  that  of  this  occasion, 
Hear  any  one  extol  the  force  of  moral  suasion  ? 

The  anonymous  correspondent  reddened  a  little, 
and  presently  returning  the  pocket-book,  said, 
unnoticed  still  by  the  others,  "I  beg  your  pardon, 
Sue." 

"  Not  mine"  said  Sue,  significantly ;  and  then 
both  turned  round  to  listen  to  an  effusion  of  Bob's, 
which  was  making  great  fun  at  the  little  table. 
It  was  called 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  "  J.  G 


BIG  HATS  AND  LITTLE  MICE. 

"  WHICH  IS  AN  ALLEGORY." 

Prissy  has  a  closet, 

In  which  she  keeps  a  store 
Of  goodies,  —  cakes  and  jelly, 

And  half  a  dozen  more. 

To  guard  this  precious  closet 

From  predatory  chits 
Is  Prissy's  daily  business, 

A  sharpener  of  her  wits. 

One  little  mouse,  in  special, 

Has  such  an  appetite, 
In  self-defence  she  grants  him 

Sometimes  a  furtive  bite. 

If  this  thief  were  the  only  one, 

No  aid  she'd  need  to  call, 
For  mice,  however  troublesome, 

Are  small  things,  after  all. 

But  when,  last  year's  vacation, 
She  pounced  on  a  big  rat, 

Prissy  lost  all  patience, 

And  vowed  she'd  have  a  cat. 

Moral. 

Now,  if  tall  Sophs  must  plunder, 
"  Swell  Sophs,"  with  canes  so  fine. 

What's  to  be  hoped,  I  wonder, 
From  little  chaps  of  nine? 


103 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


The  laugh  was  turned  against  cousin  Jack  now,  and 
so  much  fun  was  made  of  the  "  big  rat,"  that  Geof- 
frey, the  "little  mouse,"  escaped  nearly  scot-free, 
and  felt  as  if,  from  the  form  of  Bob's  rather  danger- 
ous moral,  it  would  be  quite  the  thing  for  him  to 
plunder  Prissy's  stores  in  future.  So  very  amusing 
was  Bob's  wit  found  to  be,  that  the  w  Ludimagister  ;<> 
had  need  of  his  moustache  —  of  his  cane  too,  if 
it  had  been  at  hand  —  to  help  him  maintain  his 
dignity  amid  the  shouts  of  laughter,  and  break 
up  the  session  of  the  Young  Folks'  Table  with 
due  decorum. 

To  the  parlor,  then,  they  adjourned,  and  dancing 
set  in.  From  the  large  proportion  of  boys  over 
girls  among  the  grandchildren,  all  the  girls  were 
great  belles,  and  Lillie,  especially,  was  in  great 
demand.  Arthur,  however,  was  the  successful 
claimant  for  the  opening  quadrille,  and  while  Jack 
danced  with  Sue,  and  Bob  with  anybody  he  could 
lay  hands  on,  Jimmie,  to  the  great  amusement  of 
everybody,  led  out  his  grandmother,  and  Fanny  was 
immensely  gratified  by  a  dance  with  Colonel  Dal- 
ton.  Other  dances  followed,  and,  in  the  course  of  a 
waltz,  cousin  Jack  confessed  to  Lillie  that  he  had 


THANKSGIVING  AND  DOINGS  OF  THE  r  J.  G.  T."  109 


been  the  author  of  the  offending  composition.  But 
if  I  must  tell  the  truth,  the  little  coquette's  vanity 
was  too  much  flattered  by  the  attention  of  so  fine  a 
young  man  as  Mr.  Jack  Osborne  to  resent  it  as  deep- 
ly as  if  it  had  been  really  Bob  who  wrote  it;  and 
naughty  cousin  Jack  laughed  in  his  sleeve  when  he 
noted  this  fact. 

I  wish  I  had  time  and  space  to  tell,  or  you  patience 
to  hear,  the  fun  that  followed  when  the  games  began ; 
how  grandpapa,  grandmamma,  and  all  the  aunts  and 
cousins,  played  "Blind  Man's  Buff,"  and  "Fox  and 
Geese,"  till  Geoffrey  was  forced  to  sit  down  in  the 
latter  game  from  sheer  weakness,  brought  on  by 
laughter;  how,  finally,  cousin  Jack,  a  true  Ludi- 
magister  now,  did  in  a  game  of  "  Thread  the  Needle," 
in  which  the  thread  was  so  long  that  it  reached  from 
attic  to  cellar,  so  double,  twist,  and  turn,  to  the  un- 
speakable confusion  of  all,  and  the  gre  it  jamming 
and  squeezing  of  some,  that  grandpapa,  mystified, 
declared  he  did  not  knowT  his  own  house  !  But  all 
good  things  have  a  limit  as  well  as  an  end  ;  and  the 
end  came  to  the  merry  Thanksgiving  night,  as  it 
must  to  my  chapter. 

"  A  whole  year  to  next  Thanksgiving  !  "  said  Geof- 


110 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


frey,  straining  his  eyes  after  the  carriages,  as  they 
drove  down  the  moonlit  avenue,  the  oft-repeated 
good  byes  growing  fainter  and  fainter.  "  O,  I  have 
had  such  a  splendid  time  ! " 


THE  FIRST  FOREIGN  LETTER. 


Ill 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  FIRST  FOREIGN  LETTER. 

AMONG  the  pleasures  of  my  four  boys,  I  must 
not  forget  to  speak  of  one,  which,  though  of  a 
very  different  nature  from  Thanksgiving  delights, 
was  a  very  great  pleasure,  and  one  long  looked  for. 
I  mean,  the  first  letter  from  the  travellers.  It  came 
just  the  day  before  Thanksgiving,  and  was  found  by 
Bob,  lying,  as  a  pleasant  surprise  for  the  first  comer, 
on  the  hall  table.  With  a  joyful  exclamation,  he 
summoned  his  brothers,  and  the  four  young  heads 
clustered  over  the  letter,  which  was  written  by  their 
father. 

Liverpool,  November  15. 

My  dear  Boys  —  Arthur,  Bob,  Jimmie,  and 
Geoffrey:  I  name  you  all,  lest  any  one  of  you 
should  think  himself  forgotten  ;  though,  if  you  could 
be  here  with  us  on  the  first  day  of  our  finding  our- 
belves  again  on  terra  firma,  you  would  know  how  im- 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


possible  it  is  that  we  should  forget  you.  This  is  the 
first  day  of  our  being  on  land,  as  I  said,  and  my  very 
first  act  shall  be  to  write  to  you,  for  I  know  that 
every  one  of  you  has  been  asking,  as  he  came  down 
to  breakfast,  for  three  mornings,  at  least,  before  this 
will  reach  you,  "  Has  the  postman  been  yet,  and  is 
there  a  letter  for  us  ?  " 

You  may  be  sure  that  many  times  during  the 
voyage  mamma  has  said,  "And  are  you  not  going  to 
write  to  the  children  to-day,  Arthur?"  And  each 
time  I  would  reply,  "Perhaps,  by  and  by."  Then  I 
would  take  pencil  and  paper,  and  begin  a  letter  to 
you  ;  but  presently  my  eyes  would  begin  to  swim, 
and  the  letters  would  be  very  hard  to  form  with  my 
shaky  hand;  so  the  letter  was  finally  put  aside,  to 
wait  for  dry  land,  and  a  truce  of  that  perpetual 
motion. 

Sea  voyages,  boys,  are  very  poor  things,  in  my 
opinion  ;  and,  whatever  career  you  may  decide  upon, 
Geoffie,  some  ten  years  hence,  I  hope  it  won't  be  a 
sailor's.  We  have  had  some  pretty  rough  weather, 
as  was  to  be  expected,  in  November.  When  the 
waves  dashed  against  the  porthole  in  our  state-room, 
mamma  was  frightened,  and  little  Lillio  said,  "I 


THE  FIRST  FOREIGN  LETTER. 


113 


guest*  we're  going  to  have  a  shower-bath  presently." 
Then,  of  course,  everybody  would  be  seasick;  so  it 
was  no  shame  even  for  a  Hercules  like  papa!  Wo 
would  all  retire  to  our  berths,  and  be  comfortably 
miserable,  if  you  know  what  that  means,  Bob. 

Next  morning,  however,  would  come  a  bright  sun, 
and,  as  bandboxes  are  never  the  pleasantest  habita- 
tions, I  would  say  to  mamma,  "I  think  I'll  go  up  on 
deck,  and  see  the  waves;"  and  up  to  the  deck  I  would 
mount,  clinging  fast  to  the  railing.  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  the  great  waves,  Arthur,  rolling  about  the 
steamer ;  they  made  me  think  of  the  marine  pieces 
you  and  I  saw  in  the  picture  galleries,  last  winter, 
when  you  would  say,  "Now  I  know  that  is  not  true 
to  nature." 

So  I  would  sit  down  on  the  deck  and  watch  the 
waves  for  a  little  while,  then  go  back,  perforce,  to 
the  bandbox  below.  Then  there  would  be  beauti- 
ful oalm  days,  when  the  water  was  as  smooth  and 
blue  as  the  lake  looks  on  summer  days  from  grand- 
papa's piazza,  and  it  seemed  a  sin  not  to  feel  that  a 
sea  voyage  was  perfection.  But  even  then  there  was 
a  lazy  feeling,  which  to  me  is  never  enjoyment.  Only 
think,  Jimmie,  of  not  having  the  energy  to  read! 
8 


114 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


But  I  mustn't  tell  you  of  all  the  drawbacks  of  the 
voyage,  especially  as,  now  it  is  over,  and  Ave  are  safe 
in  England,  I  feel  the  better  for  it.    There  were 
clear,  moonlight  nights,  with  the  stars  shining  bright 
over  our  heads,  and  the  waves  beneath  perfectly 
radiant  with  phosphorescent  light,  when  mamma  and 
I  walked  the  deck,  and  only  wished  for  you  boys  to 
enjoy  with  us.    But  if  I  begin  to  tell  you  of  when 
we  wished  for  you,  where  shall  I  stop?    I  was  going 
to  write  about  an  English  family  on  board,  in  whom 
I  was  much  interested,  because  the  four  children 
made  me  think  of  you;  but  I  stopped,  because  I 
found  that  I  was  really  thinking  of  you  all  the  time, 
and  only  noticed  the  children  because  I  had  you  all 
before  me.    I  shall  fancy  you  on  Thanksgiving  Day, 
and  all  your  merry  frolics  —  the  dancing,  the  games 
in  the  evening,  cousin  Jack  at  your  head,  and  the 
all-important  meeting  of  the  w  J.  G.  T."    Don't  have 
a  sober  face,  my  little  Jimmie,  when  you  think  of  us 
on  that  day.    We  are  with  you,  after  all,  you  see. 

And  so,  having  you  all  in  my  head,  I  began  to 
preach  a  little  sermon  to  you  last  Sunday  morning, 
as  T  lay  on  the  deck  with  my  eyes  hiilf  shut,  and  to 
weave  into  it  all    the  texts  J  gave  you  in  our  last 


THE  FIRST  FOREIGN  LETTER. 


115 


Sunday  talk.  I  wondered  if  you  all  knew  what  I 
meant,  when  I  told  you  that  I  wanted  each  one  of  you 
to  be  a  law  to  himself,  and  not  depend  on  awy  person 
tor  his  guide.  This  living  from  one's  own  princi- 
ples, my  little  fellows,  is  the  highest  kind  cf  living; 
all  of  you,  even  Geoffrey  can  understand  this  part 
of  my  little  sermon,  if  you  take  it  to  heart  and  think 
about  it.  High  principles,  firm  purposes  :  you  all 
know  what  those  mean  —  don't  you  ?  And  each  of 
you  can  form  to  himself  an  ideal  of  what  he  ought  to 
be,  and  live  up  to  it  as  nearly  as  he  can. 

There  will  be  days  when  you  feel  discouraged, 
and  as  if  you  fell  far  short  of  this  ideal  —  as  if  you 
never  could  reach  it.  Never  mind ;  begin  again 
fresh  the  next  morning ;  it  is  a  new  day.  There 
will  be  days  again  when  everything  seems  dreary 
and  blank  —  not  worth  the  trying  for.  Take  cour- 
age again,  and  remember  that  life  is  not  a  pleasure 
only,  after  all ;  it  is  an  opportunity  and  a  lesson. 

Fight  on,  my  little  soldiers,  and  let  me  find  that 
you  have  gained  ground  in  this  year  of  depending 
on  yourselves.  Remember  —  to  you,  Arthur,  espe- 
cially I  say  this — that  living  is  not  all  having;  it 


1 1  (3  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

is  part  giving,  and  a  great  deal   learning  to  dc 
without.. 

To  you,  particularly,  Bob,  I  say  again,  don't  be 
discouraged  if  the  reality  of  life  falls  far  short  of 
what  you  imagined  it.  Great  wholes  are  made  up 
of  little  parts  ;  and  days,  that  look  like  poor  small 
things,  taken  singly,  to  the  person  who  longs  to  be 
doing  great  things  in  life,  will  form  a  beautiful 
whole  some  day,  if  the  person  only  learns  his  lesson 
in  them. 

Am  I  talking  too  far  above  my  little  twins'  heads, 
I  wonder?  I  hope,  then,  that  Jimmie  is  remember- 
ing what  I  said  about  not  making  his  own  world, 
too  much— not  burying  himself  too  much,  I  mean, 
in  grandpapa's  library,  but  going  out  into  the  fresh 
air,  interesting  himself  in  real  things  as  well  as  in 
dreams,  and  being  all  he  can  to  the  people  in  the 
world  outside.  And  to  show  him  how  fully  I  believe 
that  little  things  are  not  to  be  despised,  let  me  say 
that  I  hope  he  is  skating  often  on  the  lake,  and  that 
when  spring  comes,  he  will  borrow  a  little  base  ball 
from  Bob.  I  know  that  minds  arc  the  best  part  of 
us,  but  bodies  are  not  to  be  neglected,  as  I  find  to 
my  cost. 


THE  FIRST  FOREIGN  LETTER. 


117 


And  how  is  Geoffrey  getting  on,  and  how  are 
those  moral  feet  of  his  growing?  To  him,  too,  1 
say,  that  life  is  not  all  taking,  and  that  the  youngest 
among  us  can  give  something,  and  be  something  to 
others. 

I  fear,  dear  boys,  you  will  think  my  first  letter 
home  is  too  grave,  and  we  will  call  it,  if  you  please, 
not  the  first  letter  from  Europe,  but  a  few  words  I 
forgot  to  say  to  you  before  leaving  home.  Indeed, 
you  know  my  travels  have  scarcely  yet  begun ;  for 
all  I  have  seen  as  yet,  even  of  smoky,  black  Liver- 
pool, is  from  my  hotel  window  ;  next  time  you  shall 
have  something  brighter.  Mamma  and  Lillie  send 
love  and  kisses,  and  one  and  all  of  us  wish  you  a 
merry  Thanksgiving.    God  bless  you  all. 

Your  Father. 

The  letter  was  grave,  as  Mr.  Stanley  had  said  ;  but 
he  need  not  have  been  afraid  of  disappointment  when 
it  should  be  read.  Neither  Arthur  nor  Bob  made 
any  remarks  on  it,  —  it  was  not  the  way  with  either 
of  them, — and  Jimmie's  happy,  "  !  call  that  a  real 
Thanksgiving  Day  letter  !  "  was  the  only  comment 
made.    But  if  they  did  not  speak,  they  thought  — 


118 


i    1  \ 

BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Bob  especially.  As  for  Geoffrey,  it  is  true  that 
papa's  high  thoughts  were  sometimes  above  his  com- 
prehension ;  and  yet  he  felt  the  better  for  them. 
They  gave  him  a  sort  of  good,  holy  feeling,  he  him- 
self once  said  —  the  same  feeling  that  filled  his  blue 
eyes  with  tears  in  Sunday  talks  at  home.  And  as 
the  little  fellow  went  off  to  his  play,  with  his  joyous, 
childish  face,  some  words  would  echo  in  his  mind 
like  these,  for  instance:  "Life  is  not  all  having; 
it  is  part  giving,  and  a  good  deal  learning  to  do 
without." 


prissy's  story  about  old  times. 


119 


CHAPTER  VII. 

prissy's  story  about  "old  times." 
IHE  holiday  season  had  set  in,  and  Lakeside  Hill 


was  one  of  the  places  where  it  was  kept  in 
earnest.  Of  course  there  was  to  be  a  Christmas 
tree  on  Christmas,  but,  besides  that*  all  sorts  of 
merry-making  was  going  on  before  Christmas  actu- 
ally arrived.  Fanny  and  Charley  Osborne  had  come 
to  spend  the  holidays  at  their  grandfather's,  and 
there  is  always  plenty  of  merry-making  where  so 
many  young  heads  and  joyous  hearts  are  together. 
And  cousin  Jack,  with  many  grumblings  against  the 
Faculty  for  not  giving  the  college  a  week's  vacation 
at  Christmas,  yet  managed  to  run  over  for  the 
evening,  as  a  general  thing. 

What  a  grand  time  they  had!  Skating  and 
sleighing  in  the  morning,  theatricals  in  the  even- 
ing, in  which  even  Colonel  Dalton  took  part,  and, 
laying  aside  his  gravity,  became,  to  the  delight  of 


120 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Lillie,  the  most  merry  brother  in  the  world.  There 
were  parties,  too,  in  the  neighborhood,  to  which 
Sue,  and  sometimes  Fanny,  went,  and  Lillie  sighed 
to  be  a  young  lady,  that  she  might  go  too.  Where- 
upon kind  grandpapa,  taking  pity  on  her,  promised 
her  a  party  for  herself  on  New  Year's  Ev.e,  that  she 
might  dance  the  old  year  out.  Then,  on  rainy  days, 
they  adjourned  en  masse  to  the  attic,  and  made  the 
house  ring  with  their  shouts  and  laughter.  Some- 
times, too,  in  the  course  of  the  long  winter  evening, 
they  descended  to  the  kitchen,  and  teased  Prissy  for 
a  story  of  "  long  ago." 

This  is  where  they  were  assembled  on  the  evening 
I  am  now  writing  about ;  the  making  of  molasses 
candy  being  the  ostensible  reason,  and  a  general 
willingness  to  profit  by  any  opportunity  for  fun, 
which  might  offer,  the  true  cause  of  their  movement. 
It  was  just  the  night  for  candy-making  —  clear  and 
cold,  with  snow  piled  on  the  windowT-sills.  The 
molasses  was  boiling  in  the  great  kettle,  and  Sue, 
who,  with  the  colonel,  had  promised  to  be  present  at 
the  "pulling,"  had  gone  away,  declaring  that  she  had 
not  patience  to  wait  down  stairs  during  the  prelim- 
inary stages  of  the  molasses.     The  other  young 


prissy's  story  about  old  times. 


121 


people,  more  interested,  grouped  round  the  fire, 
and,  as  by  one  consent,  demanded  from  Prissy  a 
story  of  old  times,  while  they  were  waiting. 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,  dears,"  Prissy  made  answer, 
?f  as  I've  got  anything  worth  the  hearing  to  tell  you. 
The  young  gentlemen  are  so  clever,  and  Master 
Jimmie  here  reads  so  much,  I  don't  feel  as  if 
I  could  tell  them  anything  they  don't  know  al- 
ready." 

This  being  Prissy's  modest  disclaimer  on  all  occa- 
sions, Fanny  only  said,  "  Why,  you  know,  Prissy, 
not  one  of  us,  however  clever,  can  be  expected  to 
know  about  things  that  happened  before  we  were 
born." 

"I  should  think  not,  indeed,"  said  Prissy,  with  a 
laugh ;  "  and  if  it's  those  things  you  want  to  hear 
about,  Miss  Fanny,  I  dare  say  I  can  rake  up  some- 
thing to  tell  you  ;  though,  I  declare,  I  should  think 
you  might  know  every  one  of  my  old  stories  by 
heart  before  nowr." 

Arthur,  coming  to  Fanny's  aid  in  the  difficult  task 
of  soothing  Prissy's  sensitive  modesty,  soon  succeed- 
ed in  removing  her  scruples  ;  the  children  all  settled 
themselves  comfortably,  the  venerable  story-teller 


122 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


took  up  her  knitting,  and  began,  without  moie  ado, 
in  her  pleasant,  rambling  fashion. 

"Well,  then,  dears,  when  you  were  making  such 
a  racket  up  garret  this  morning,  with  your  bean- 
bags,  and  I  don't  know  what  all  besides,  youv  grand- 
ma'am  saj^s  to  me,  *  Well,  Prissy,  I  don't  think  this 
old  house  ever  heard  more  noise  and  laughter  than  it 
has  this  last  week,  long  as  it's  stood.'  I  didn't  say 
anything,  but  thinks  I  to  myself,  ?  Well,  Mrs.  Os- 
borne, I  guess  you've  forgotten  the  time  when  these 
children's  fathers  and  mothers  were  young,  and  were 
making  just  such  a  noise  themselves.' 

"Not  that  Mr.  Robert  made  much  noise,  either; 
for,  though  he  had  a  merry  voice  and  eye,  —  Miss 
Sue's  like  him  there,  —  and  liked  a  bit  of  fun  as 
well  as  any  one,  he  was  always  grave  and  thought- 
ful outside.  As  for  Miss  Fanny,  —  I  mean  your 
mother,  Master  Arthur, — she  had  spirits  enough, 
but  she  was  a,  girl,  after  all  ;  and  when  girls  get  on 
long  dresses,  and  their  hair  turned  up,  they  don't 
generally  do  much  running  and  shouting.  But  Mr. 
John  —  lie  made  up  for  half  a  dozen  !  Why,  Miss 
Fanny,  my  dear,  though  they  do  call  your  brother, 
Mr.  Jack,  such  a  rogue,  he  isn't  for  a  minute  to  be 


prtssy's  stohy  about  old  times. 


123 


named  in  the  same  breath  with  his  father  at  his  age 
for  tricks  and  teasing.    His  age,  did  I  say?  No, 
nor  two  or  three  years  older,  either;   for  I  have 
thought  Mr.  Jack  was  sobering  down  a  bit  of  late. 
But  Mr.  John  !    Well,  children,  he  was  just  the  age 
of  Mr.  Jack  — in  his  third  year  in  college,  when  he 
played  us  all  a  trick  I  thought  we'd  never  hear  the 
last  of.    We'd  heard  a  good  deal  for  some  time  (I 
say  we,  because  I  was  a  good  deal  about  up  stairs 
that  year;  I  wasn't  well,  and  your  grandma'am  took 
an  idea  that  I  shouldn't  do  the  cooking) ,—  we'd 
heard  a  good  deal  from  Mr.  John,  then,  about  a 
friend  of  his  at  college  — a  Mr.  Arthur  Stanley. 
(That  was  your  dear  pa,  you  know,  Master  Geof- 
frey.)   Well,  he  talked  about  him  so  much,  praising 
him  for  this,  that,  and  the  other,  —  for  Mr.  John 
was  always  ready  to  praise  other  people,  —  and  what 
a  fine  scholar  he  was,  and  what  a  splendid  fellow, 
that  your  grandpa  says,  *  Well,  let  us  see  this  par- 
agon of  yours,  John.' 

"'I'm  all  ready,  sir,'  says  he;  'it's  just  what  I 
want  to  do  —  to  bring  him  here.  I  want  Fanny  to 
fall  in  love  with  him,  and  then  I'll  be  sure  to  get  just 
the  brother-in-law  I  want.' 


124 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"At  that  Miss  Fanny  blushed,  and  your  grandpa 
frowned  a  little,  for  he  never  could  bear  to  hear  such 
things  talked  about  in  fun.  But  by  and  by  Mr. 
Robert,  who  had  left  college,  and  was  studying  law, 
began  to  tell  us,  too,  in  his  quiet  fashion,  about  Mr. 
Arthur  Stanley,  — what  high  principles  he  had,  and 
how  he  thought  he  was  having  a  very  good  influence 
over  Mr.  John;  for  though  he  never  had  a  bit  of 
anything  bad  in  him,  your  pa  was  a  bit  wild  in  those 
days,  Miss  Fanny.  At  that,  your  grandpa  thought 
more  of  it,  — he  always  set  such  store  by  what  Mr. 
Robert  said,  —  and  he  spoke  again  to  Mr.  John. 

"'Suppose,'  says  he,  e  you  bring  this  friend  of 
yours  —  Stanley,  I  mean  —  home  with  you  for  the 
Christmas  holidays.' 

"'All  right,  sir,'  says  Mr.  John;  ?so  I  will.' 

"Well,  in  those  days  we  used  to  hear  a  good  deal 
from  Mr.  John  of  some  masquerading  club  he'd  just 
got  into  at  college  —  " 

"  Hasty  Pudding  !  "  interrupted  Charley. 

"Yes,  dear,  —  and  how  he  dressed  up  m  woman's 
clothes,  and  if  one  of  us  could  sec  him  we  shouldn't 
know  him  from  a  girl. 

"'Pooh  ! '  says  your  grandpa,  — he  always  hated  to 


prissy's  story  about  old  times. 


125 


be  told  he  could  be  taken  in,  —  fI  should  know  you 
anywhere,  John.' 

"fDo  you  think  so,  sir?'  cried  Mr.  John.  rI 
would  be  willing  to  wager  I  could  deceive  you  even 
in  man's  clothes,  if  I  tried;'  and  that  made  your 
grandpa  very  mad.  The  Christmas  holidays  came 
on,  and  Mr.  Arthur  Stanley  was  to  come  home  with 
Mr.  John  to  Lakeside  Hill  here  —  and  how  that 
rogue,  Mr.  John,  would  make  poor  Miss  Fanny 
blush,  telling  her  to  be  sure  to  make  herself  pretty 
when  his  friend  came  ! 

"  It  was  the  day  they  were  expected  ;  they  were 
all  in  the  parlor,  and  I  was  there,  too,  about  some- 
thing or  other,  when  the  parlor  girl  opened  the  door, 
saying,  ?  A  gentleman  to  see  you,  sir ;  '  and  in 
walked  a  young  man.  I  knew  it  was  Mr.  Stanley  ; 
so  I  looked  up  quick,  to  get  a  glimpse  of  him  before 
I  went  out.  But  I  must  say  I  w7as  disappointed. 
I  thought  to  myself  I'd  never  seen  such  an  awkward- 
looking  fellow  —  such  big  feet,  and  pants  half  way 
up  his  boots,  very  seedy-looking  clothes,  and  such 
thick  red  hair  and  whiskers,  looking  as  if  they  hadn't 
seen  the  comb  for  days..  He  had  very  bright  black 
eyes,  but  that  was  all ;  and  I  said  to  myself,  f  Well; 


126 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


that  is  a.  strange  fellow  for  Mr.  John  to  take  a  fancy 
to!' — for  Mr.  John,  like  your  grandpa,  thought  a 
deal  of  people's  looks,  and  was  always  as  trim  and 
neat  as  a  new  pin  himself. 

"Well,  I  saw  your  grandpa  was  a  little  surprised; 
but  he  got  up  in  his  polite  way,  and  was  beginning, 
'Mr.  Stanley?'  when  the  young  man  burst  out  in 
such  a  loud  voice,  that  I  declare  I  jumped. 

???Yes,  that's  my  name  —  your  son's  friend,  you 
know.  How  are  you,  Mrs.  Osborne?  And  this 
is  Miss  Fanny,  I  suppose  — I've  heard  all  about 
you!'  and  he  shook  hands  all  round,  in  the  most 
free-and-easy  way  possible.  (I  ought  to  have  told 
you,  by  the  way,  that  Mr.  Robert  wasn't  at  home 
that  night.) 

'''I'm  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Stanley,'  said 
your  grandpa,  a  little  stiff— for  he  had  his  own 
ideas  of  politeness,  and  didn't  quite  like  the  young 
man's  speaking  to  Miss  Fanny  so  familiar.  cYes, 
this  is  my  daughter.  Mr.  Stanley,  my  dear.  But 
isn't  my  son  with  you  ?  ' 

" f  Dear,  no  !  I  forgot  all  about  that,  1  declare  ! '  and 
the  young  man  laughed  a  great  loud  laugh,  so  that 
your  grandma'am  looked  up  surprised.    Mack  wasn't 


pkissy's  story  about  old  times.  127 


very  well  to-night,  though  he  hopes  to  get  here  to- 
morrow ;  «o  I  came  to  make  my  introduction  in 
person,  without  waiting  for  him  to  bri 
bate  ceremony  among  friends  ! ' 

K  Well,  the  conversation  seemed  to  be  dragging  a 
little  when  I  left  the  room,  for  both  your  grandpa 
and  grandma'am  were  surprised,  and  didn't  know 
what  to  make  of  the  young  fellow.  And  as  for  Miss 
Fanny,  though  she  blushed  like  a  rose  whenever  he 
looked  at  her,  she  drew  up  her  head  quite  stately, 
and  hardly  answered  him.  But  nothing  put  down 
young  Mr.  Stanley ;  he  talked  away,  loud  and  fast ; 
laughed  at  his  own  jokes,  and  told  stories  about 
college,  and  what  a  good  friend  'Jack'  was  to  him." 

"I  don't  like  to  hear  such  things  about  papa," 
said  Geoffrey,  inclined  to  be  offended. 

"  O,  you  wait  till  we  get  to  the  end,  Master  Geof- 
frey," said  Prissy,  sagely.  "When  the  table  girl 
came  down  stairs,  she  said  the  young  man  was  going 
on  at  such  a  rate  at  tea  that  Mrs.  Osborne  didn't  know 
where  to  look.  He  ate  so  much,  that,  as  she  said, 
she  should  think  he  had  been  starved  for  a  week,  and 
stuck  out  his  elbows  like  «,  grasshopper. 

R  In  the  evening  they  were  going  to  have  a  little 


128 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


company,  and  get  up  a  dance,  as  they  often  did;  foi 
your  grandpa  liked  gayety  and  young  people,  and 
Miss  Fanny  was  a  great  favorite.    I  used  to  stand  at 
the  door  sometimes  and  look  on,  and  you  may  be 
sure  I  went  that  night.    Well,  there  was  Mr.  Stan- 
ley, dancing  away  with  Miss  Fanny,  still  in  his  old 
coat  and  the  great  rough  boots.    He  was  so  awk- 
ward that  he  ran  into  everybody ;  and  Miss  Fanny, 
who  was  a  pretty  dancer,  was  so  ashamed  that  she 
didn't  know  which  way  to  look.    Then  I  could  see 
him  talking  away  to  her,  in  his  great  loud  voice, 
and  paying  her  compliments  to  her  face.  Presently 
she  came  over  near  to  where  I  was  standing,  where 
there  was  a  group  of  young  girls  ;  and  they  all 
wanted  to  know  who  that  queer  young  man  was. 

"'That  is  a  college  friend  of  my  brother  John,' 
said  poor  Miss  Fanny,  blushing.  <I  know  he's  a 
little  odd,  but  my  brothers  both  say  he  is  such 
a  good  fellow,  and  John  is  very  fond  of  him.' 

"'Well,  there's  no  accounting  for  tastes,'  said 
the  young  lady.  'He  certainly  seems  very  much 
pleased  with  you,  Fanny  dear.' 

"  '  O,  it's  only  his  way,'  said  poor  Miss  Fanny.  '  I 
know  lie  is  odd,  and,  as  he  ionics  fioni  the  eotmtiy, 


PKISSY'S  STOliY  ABOUT  OLD  TIMES. 


129 


THE  QUEER  YOUNG  MAN. 

very  likely  he  does  not  know  much  about  society. 
But  he  is  very  good,  and  is  going  to  be  a  minister, 
I  believe' 

"And  upon  that,  I  thought  the  other  young  girls 
would  have  died  of  laughing.  But,  for  all  Miss 
Fanny's  pretty,  pleasant  words,  I  knew  she  didn't 
like  Mr.  Stanley  a  bit. 

"By  and  by  everybody  had  gone,  and  Mr.  Stanley 
went  up  to  his  room.  Then  I  heard  your  grandpa 
9 


130 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


and  grandma  and  Miss  Fanny  talking,  and  your 
grandpa  blazed  right  out. 

" '  What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  that,  I'd  like  to  know !  1 
said  he;  'and  what  does  John  mean  by  bringing 
him  here  ? ' 

"'It's  very  odd,'  said  Miss  Fanny;  '  I  can't  bear 
him;  and  I  don't  see  what  John  can  find  to  like  in 
him ;  but  they  say,  you  know,  papa,  that  people 
always  like  their  opposites  ! ' 

"'Opposites,  indeed!'  said  your  grandpa,  very 
angry.  "'Well,  I  will  do  John  the  credit  to  say  that 
there  isn't  a  particle  of  anything  in  this  fellow  like 
him!  But  it's  all  nonsense,  Fanny;  the  man  is 
not  a  gentleman ;  he's  a  clodhopper,  and  an  im- 
pudent one  besides  !  John  lets  his  fancies  run  away 
with  him,  and  I  shall  tell  him  so  to-morrow.  I 
had  a  good  mind  to  turn  Stanley  out  of  the  house 
several  times  to-night.  I  firmly  believe  he  was 
intoxicated  ! ' 

"Well,  Miss  Fanny  tried  to  soothe  him  by  say- 
ing  that  very  likely  Mr.  Stanley  was  embarrassed, 
and  that  was  one  reason  he  behaved  so  queerly  — 
lie  wasn't  used  to  society.  But  your  grandpa  pooh- 
poohed  it  all,  and  went  up  stairs  as  angry  as  possible. 


prissy's  story  about  old  times. 


131 


"I  went  down  to  the  kitchen  to  see  that  all  was 
to  rights,  when  whom  should  I  find  standing  on 
the  hearth  but  Mr.  Stanley  himself!  My  heart 
jumped  up  in  my  mouth;  for  I  thought  he  must 
have  heard  all  they'd  been  saying  of  him ;  and, 
besides,  the  fellow  was  so  queer.  But  I  hadn't 
much  time  to  think  about  it,  for  he  turned  right 
round,  and  said  he,  as  easy  as  possible,  fO,  here 
you  are  !  have  you  got  a  little  something  at  hand 
you  could  give  me  to  eat?  I'm  used  to  taking  a 
bite  of  something  solid  before  I  go  to  bed  ! ' 

"  I  had  to  turn  my  face  away  not  to  laugh  right 
out,  remembering  the  supper  he'd  eaten  after  his 
tea;  but  I  said,  ?  Certainly,  sir,'  as  polite  as  possi- 
ble, and  got  out  a  nice  cold  chicken.  I  put  it  before 
him,  and  sat  down  on  the  settle  with  my  knitting. 
He  took  up  his  knife  and  fork,  and  was  just  going 
to  begin,  when  I  chanced  to  look  up,  uneasy  like, 
and  caught  his  eye.  It  twinkled  as  if  he  wanted 
to  laugh  ;  and,  before  I  had  time  to  speak,  he  laid 
down  his  knife  and  fork,  and  burst  into  such  a  fit  of 
laughter,  that  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks ;  and, 
what  was  the  funniest  part  of  all,  it  sounded  like  a 
laugh  I  knew  ! 


132 


BATTLES  aT  HOME. 


"'What's  the  matter,  sir?'  says  I. 

"But  he  couldn't  stop  laughing  to  answer  me. 

"  f  O,  Prissy  ! '  he  gasped,  presently,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak.  ?To  think  that  I  could  take  you  all 
in  with  such  a  barefaced  trick  as  that ! ' 

"  I  was  half  frightened,  and  jumped  up  quick  ;  fcr, 
though  I  seemed  to  know  the  voice,  the  man  with 
the  red  hair  and  whiskers  looked  so  unlike  anybody 
I  knew,  that  the  familiar  voice  only  scared  me. 

"  c  Why,  Prissy  !  '  says  he,  then,  f  don't  you  know 
me  yet?'  and  he  pulled  off  his  red  whiskers. 

"'Mr.  John!'  says  I.  ' Bless  my  soul!'  But, 
before  I  got  any  farther,  your  grandpa  was  standing 
in  the  doorway  —  he  never  would  have  any  noise  in 
the  house  after  the  family  were  gone  to  bed. 

"'What's  all  this,  Prissy?'  says  he,  quite  stern. 
'Mr.  Stanley,  I  am  surprised  — ' 

"  But  here  he  caught  sight  of  the  man  without  the 
red  whiskers,  and  just  stood  still,  staring,  with  his 
mouth  open,  to  finish  the  sentence. 

"'O,  father,  you  will  be  the  death  of  me!'  says 
the  young  man,  beginning  to  laugh  again  ;  and  with 
that  he  put  up  his  hand,  pulled  off  the  wig,  and 
stood  before  us  —  Mr.  John  himself! 


prissy's  story  about  old  times. 


13d 


"  f  So  there  isn't  a  particle  of  anything  in  me  like 
john_ is  there?'  said  he.  fI  thought  you  would 
have  "known  me  anywhere,"  sir!' 

"Well,  your  grandpa  found  his  tongue  at  last,  at 
that,  and  I  thought  Mr.  John  was  going  to  get  it 
now;  but,  as  he  began  to  speak,  the  angry  look 
went  all  out  of  his  face  ;  he  forgot  how  cheap  he 
felt,  and  just  sat  down  and  laughed  as  hard  as  the 
rest  of  us.  Then  your  grandma'am  and  Miss  Fanny 
had  to  be  called,  and  to  hear  the  whole  story;  and 
it  was  late  enough  before  we  got  to  bed  that  night." 

"But  where  was  papa,  really?"  asked  Jimmie,  as 
Prissy's  appreciative  audience  hummed  applause. 

"O,  it  was  he,  who  was  sick  really,  not  Mr.  John. 
He  had  sent  his  excuses  by  him,  and  that  bad  boy 
had  taken  the  opportunity  of  Mr.  Robert's  being 
away  to  play  us  this  trick.  A  day  or  two  afterwards 
Mr.  Arthur  Stanley  really  came,  though  Miss  Fanny 
declared  she  never  wanted  to  see  the  man  now,  or 
hear  his  name  again.  And  to  think  that  after  all 
they  should  really  fall  in  love  with  each  other,  and 
that  he  should  marry  Miss  Fanny,  and  that  I  should 
be  telling  the  story  now  to  his  children !  Dear, 
dear !  how  many  years  have  gone  by   dnce  then  I 


134 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


And  to  think  of  poor  Mr.  Eobert  being  dead,  and 
Mr.  John  grown  into  a  middle-aged  man,  and  Miss 
Fanny  off  in  Europe.    Dear,  dear  !  how  time  flies  !  " 

And  Prissy  raising  her  apron  to  wipe  away  a  stray 
tear,  the  story  might  have  had  a  melancholy  ending, 
if,  at  this  moment  catching  sight  of  the  kettle  of 
molasses,  which,  in  the  interest  of  her  narrative,  she 
had  almost  forgotten  to  stir,  she  had  not  jumped  up 
briskly,  exclaiming,  — 

rBut,  dear  me,  children!  here's  the  kettle  just 
boiling  over,  and  your  candy  like  to  be  spoiled  !  " 

"  Cousin  Sue  !  Colonel  Dalton  !  come  quick  !  " 
shouted  Geoffrey,  rushing  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  in 
great  excitement.  "The  candy's  boiling  over,  and 
it  will  all  be  spoiled,  if  you  don't  come  this  very 
minute ! " 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG. 

ONE  morning  in  that  holiday  week,  the  three 
younger  boys,  Charley  Osborne,  Jimmie,  and 
Geoffrey,  together  with  some  of  their  playmates  in 
the  neighborhood,  were  out  with  their  sleds. 
Having  coasted  down  hill  various  times,  and  tried 
the  delights  of  both  ??  single  "  and  "  double  runners," 
Charley,  who,  like  his  elder  brother  Jack,  was  an 
enterprising  spirit,  and  fond  of  variety,  began  to  tire 
of  that  diversion,  and  to  look  about  him  in  search 
of  something  new.  Near  the  hill,  up  which  they  had 
been  plodding  with  their  sleds,  stood  the  ice-house, 
its  long,  sloping  roof  covered  thickly  with  frozen 
snow.    A  bright  idea  struck  Charley. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  boys  !  "  cried  he.  "  I'm  tired 
of  this  old  hill.  Let's  coast  down  the  roof  of  the 
ice-house,  there.  We  can  drag  our  sleds  up  one 
side  just  as  easy  as  not." 


136 


BATTLES  AT  ITOM1J. 


"But  it's  so  steep, "  objected  Jimmie. 

"Well,  what  of  that?  The  roof  comes  all  but 
down  to  the  ground  ;  and  if  the  slant  is  steep,  we 
shall  only  come  down  so  much  the  quicker.  Who's 
for  trying  it?    Come  on,  boys!" 

Charley,  in  virtue  of  his  year's  seniority,  being 
regarded  as  the  ringleader  in  the  sports,  the  other 
boys  followed  his  lead  as  he  ran  towards  the  ice- 
house. Jimmie  alone  followed  slowly,  dragging  his 
sled  after  him.  Jimmie  was  no  coward  :  he  had 
often  borne,  with  the  patience  of  a  little  martyr, 
severe  physical  pain  which  would  have  made  his 
twin  cry  like  a  baby.  His  sickly  childhood  had 
accustomed  him  to  this  species  of  fortitude.  But 
there  is  a  difference  between  the  courage  which  will 
bear  bravely  pain  that  cannot  be  helped,  and  that 
species  of  daring  which  will  do  a  hair-brained  thing 
for  the  sake  of  doing  it,  glorying  in  the  very  fool- 
hardiness  of  the  act.  This  kind  of  daring  Jimmie 
lacked:  dreamy  little  people  like  him,  without  much 
physical  strength,  or  toughness  of  muscle,  seldom  do 
have  it;  and  it  must  be  owned  that  his  heart  sank 
within  him  at  the  idea  of  a  coast  down  that  roof. 

He  did  not  say  so,  however,  and  for  several 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  137 


reasons.  First,  because,  though  he  had  quite  suf- 
ficient moral  courage  to  confess  the  truth  about  his 
own  personal  feelings,  he  couldn't  bear  that  his  twin 
should  feel  ashamed  of  him,  as  Geoffrey,  who  had 
plenty  of  daring  himself,  sometimes  seemed  when 
other  boys  twitted  Jimmie  with  his  "want  of  pluck." 
Another  reason  was  working  still  more  strongly  in 
his  little  mind,  as  he  brought  up  the  rear  of  the 
charge  on  the  ice-house.  In  Mr.  Stanley's  last  letter 
there  were  some  lines  to  Jimmie,  over  which  the 
little  fellow  had  been  pondering  a  good  deal  in  his 
sober  fashion.  Papa  wanted  him  to  go  more  into 
out-door  sports  —  mix  more  with  boys  of  his  own 
age.  Perhaps  he  might  mean,  too,  try  to  get  rid  of 
some  of  this  lack  of  daring,  which  poor  Jimmie 
regarded  as  a  physical  infirmity. 

«  I'm  sure,  if  I  thought  he  would  wish  it,  I'd  do  it 
in  a  minute,"  he  thought. 

«  Well,  who's  going  to  try  the  coast?  "  cried  Char- 
ley, turning  at  the  foot  of  the  ice-house.  "You, 
Jeff  ?  " 

"I'm  all  ready,  for  one,"  said  Geoffrey. 
'And  you,  Jim?" 

Jimmie  hesitated  a  minute,  and  gave  a  little 
troubled  glance  at  the  steep  roof. 


138 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"  He's  afraid,  I  do  believe!"  said  Charley,  a  little 
scornfully. 

"He's  no  such  thing,"  said  Geoffrey,  hotly.  "You're 
always  trying  to  stump  Jimmie,  Charley  Osborne  ! 
I  can  tell  you,  he  dares  do  as  much  as  you,  any  day, 
if  he  doesn't  brag  as  much." 

But  in  spite  of  Geoffrey's  valiant  refutation  of 
the  charge,  he  gave  his  twin  an  anxious  glance, 
while  the  blood  rushed  to  his  cheeks.  That  glance 
decided  Jimmie. 

"Let  him  say  he's  not  afraid,  then,"  said  Charley. 

"No,  I  don't  think  I'm  afraid,"  said  Jimmie,  with 
a  faint  blush.  "At  any  rate,  I'm  going  to  try  the 
coast." 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Charley.  "  Come  on,  then  ;  "  and 
they  rushed  in  a  body  up  the  side  of  the  roof,  Geof- 
frey taking  occasion  to  say  to  Jimmie,  "Don't  give 
in,  Jim  —  don't  let  the  fellows  say  you're  afraid." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  it  was  rather  precarious 
footing  on  the  sharp  ridge-pole,  where  the  boys  had 
to  pause  for  a  minute,  to  get  their  sleds  in  coasting 
line  ;  but  boys  are  said  to  be  like  cats,  and  tc  be  able 
to  cling  anywhere.  Besides,  with  most  of  them,  it 
was  an  instantaneous  thing:  no  sooner  was  the  ascent 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  139 

effected  than  the  descent  was  begun.  A  flash,  and 
the  feat  was  accomplished  !  Not  so  with  Jimmie. 
His  cheek  grew  a  little  bit  pale  ;  but  that  last  speech 
of  his  twin  had  roused  him,  and  he  struggled  man- 
fully with  the  shrinking  which  was  indeed,  with  him, 
a  physical  thing  —  a  consequence  of  his  weak  consti- 
tution. It  was  a  serious  matter  to  the  poor  little 
fullow,  and  he  said  softly  to  himself,  as  he  ran  up 
the  ascent,  "O,  God,  don't  let  me  be  afraid." 

Ah,  Jimmie,  as  Mr.  Stanley  would  have  said  if  he 
had  been  there,  no  one  can  regulate  such  feelings  for 
us  but  ourselves  ! 

Jimmie's  head  swam  as  he  looked  at  the  steep 
slant;  and  as  the  sled  began  to  dart  clown,  he  invol- 
untarily closed  his  eyes.  A  moment  after,  there  was 
a  cry  — not  from  one  boy,  but  half  a  dozen.  Jim- 
mie's sled  was,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  on  the  out- 
side, and  ill  steered  by  his  trembling  little  hands, 
had  gone  off  the  side  of  the  roof.  The  distance 
from  the  ground  was  considerable.  Dreadfully 
alarmed,  the  boys  ran  round  the  side  of  the  building, 
Geoffrey  at  their  head.  Jimmie  was  lying  on  the 
ground,  his  broken  sled  by  him. 


140 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"My  leg!"  said  he,  faintly.  "  O,  take  me  up 
gently,  please." 

Geoffrey,  crying  as  if  his  heart  would  break,  flew 
to  the  house,  calling  grandpapa,  Colonel  Dalton, 
anybody  ;  but  before  they  came,  poor  Jimmie  had 
fainted  away. 

"Well,  I  do  hope  you  boys  are  satisfied  now," 
said  grandpapa,  as  they  laid  the  little  fellow  on  the 
bed.  "It  seems  as  if  you  never  would  rest  till  you'd 
broken  somebody's  bones  with  your  foolhardy  tricks. 
Here's  this  poor  little  fellow's  leg  broken,  through 
your  folly.  You  needn't  tell  me  it  was  his  own 
doing." 

"It  was  my  fault,  grandpapa,"  said  Geoffrey,  with 
a  trembling  lip.  "Charley  said  Jimmie  daredn't  do 
something,  and  I  stumped  him  to  do  it." 

"I  dare  say,"  growled  grandpapa,  who  was  always 
most  ready  to  scold  when  most  anxious  and  trou- 
bled ;  but,  indeed,  everybody  was  too  much  taken 
up  with  Jimmie  for  anybody  to  say  much. 

When  Jimmie  opened  his  eyes,  the  first  face  he 
saw  was  Colonel  Dalton's.  "O,"  said  he,  stretch- 
ing out  his  little  hand  to  him,  "arc  yon  there?  And 
is  it  this  kind  of  pain  when  one  is  wounded?" 


A  MEKllY  C1IUISTMAS  IN  SPUE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  141 


THE  ACCIDENT. 


ec  It'is  the  kind  some  soldiers  have  to  bear,  cer- 
tainly," said  Colonel  Dalton,  pressing  the  little  hand. 

"Then  I'm  sure  I  can  bear  it,  too,"  said  Jimmie, 
resolutely.  "Besides,  it  was  my  own  fault.  I  was 
afraid  to  coast  down  that  roof,  and  I  ought  to  have 
told  the  boys  I  was  a  coward." 

"Coward!"  Said  Mr.  Osborne,  indignantly.  "I 
should  like  to  see  if  Charley  and  Geoffrey  would 
bear  a  broken  leg  as  well." 


142 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Then  my  leg  is  really  broken,"  said  Jimmie,  his 
face  paling ;  "  and  Christmas  so  near  ! ' 

w  Christmas  !  "  said  grandpapa,  testily.  "  I  think 
there  will  be  very  little  Christmas  for  any  of  us 
without  you,  my  little  man." 

"O,  yes,  grandpapa,  there  will,"  said  Jimmie, 
earnestly.  "If  everything  does  not  go  on  just  the 
same,  I  shall — " 

A  twinge  of  pain  made  him  fall  back  on  the  pil- 
low ;  so  he  finished  his  sentence  with  a  feeble  little 
smile,  and  the  words,  "I  shall  lie  here  just  the  same, 
I  suppose." 

The  doctor,  for  whom  Bob  had  flown  in  hot  haste 
at  the  first  rumor  of  the  accident,  now  arriving,  the 
broken  leg  was  set,  Jimmie  holding  Colonel  Dalton's 
hand  all  the  time. 

"  There,  my  little  man,"  said  the  doctor,  when  the 
operation  was  finished,  f?  if  you  will  just  lie  there 
quietly  for  five  or  six  weeks,  you  will  be  as  well  a& 
ever." 

To  secure  this  quiet,  everybody  was  now  banished 
from  the  room,  except  Colonel  Dalton,  for  whose 
presence  Jimmie  begged  so  earnestly  that  it  Vas 
granted.    The  little  fellow  seemed  to  fee!  that  the 


A  MERR*  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  143 


sight  of  Guy,  with  his  wounded  arm,  would  help 
him  bear  his  own  pain  more  bravely.  No  sooner 
was  the  door  closed  on  the  others,  than  Jimmie 
looked  up,  asking,  — 

"How  long  did  the  doctor  say  I  must  lie  here  ?" 

"Not  more  than  five  or  six  weeks,  I  hope,"  said 
the  colonel,  cheerfully. 

"  Six  whole  weeks  !  "  .echoed  Jimmie,  sorrowfully ; 
and,  to  Guy's  surprise,  he  turned  away  his  head, 
and  hiding  his  face  in  the  pillow,  cried  quietly. 

"Why,  Jimmie,"  said  Colonel  Dalton,  "do  you 
think  that  harder  to  bear  than  the  pain?  Keeping 
still  will  not  be  half  as  hard  to  you  as  to  some  boys, 
because  you  are  so  fond  of  reading  and  studying  by 
yourself,  you  know." 

"Ah,  but  you  see  that's  just  it,"  said  the  little 
boy.  "That  is  just  the  very  thing  I  was  going  to 
try  not  to  do ;  and  now  I  can't  help  doing  it." 

"  And  why  were  you  going  to  try  not  to  do  it  ? " 
asked  the  colonel. 

"When  papa  went  away,"  said  Jimmie,  uncover- 
ing his  face,  "  he  gave  us  all  work  to  do  while  he 
was  gone  ;  and  my  part  was  not  to  bury  myself  in 
books,  as  papa  said,  but  to  care  for  real  things  and 


144 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


people,  and  see  how  much  I  could  be  to  them.  He 
wanted  me  to  be  more  out  doors,  too  ;  and  now  I 
can't." 

"No,  you  can't  do  that,"  said  Colonel  Dalton, 
touched  by  Jimmie's  distress  ;  "  but  I'm  sure  you  can 
be  just  as  much  to  other  people  as  if  you  were 
running  about  with  the  others.  Shall  I  tell  you 
how  ?" 

?fI  wish  you  would,"  said  Jimmie. 

ff  Sometimes,"  said  the  colonel,  "  we  do  a  great  deal 
for  other  people  when  we  only  seem  to  be  letting 
them  do  for  us.  For  instance,  there  are  some 
people  who  feel  as  if  they  could  never  be  of  any 
use  to  any  one  ;  and  to  find  that  they  can  read  to 
or  amuse  another  person,  who  is  sick,  is  a  real 
pleasure.  Again,  there  are  some  people  who  are 
very  impatient,  and  think  they  cannot  bear  the  least 
pain.  Now,  if  they  see  another  person,  who  bears 
a  great  deal  of  pain  patiently  and  brightly,  as  I  am 
sure  you  will,  don't  you  see  that  it  helps  them?  I 
know  one  person  whom  you  can  help  in  both  these 
ways,  Jimmie;  and  that  is  my  little  sister,  Lillie. 
Isn't  that  some  comfort?" 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Jiinniic,  with  a  little  bit  of  a 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  145 


smile.  "  But  it's  a  lazy  way  of  working,  after  all, 
just  to  lie,  and  wait,  and  be  waited  on." 

"Do  you  know,"  smiled  the  colonel,  "that  a  poet 
once  said,  — 

'  They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait 1  ? " 

And  some  one  calling  him  just  at  that  moment, 
Guy  departed,  leaving-a  little  ray  of  sunshine  in 
Jimmie's  heart.  Bob,  who  had  started  up  very 
opportunely  when  Guy  was  going  out,  coming  to 
take  his  place,  Jimmie  beckoned  him  to  the  bed 
with  a  bright  little  smile. 

"I  don't  wonder  you  like  Colonel  Dalton  so 
much,"  said  he.  "I'm  going  to  like  him  just  as 
much  now." 

"Who  told  you  I  liked  him  at  all?"  said  Bob, 
with  an  odd  little  laugh,  while  he  seemed  to  be  very 
busy  with  the  fringe  of  Jimmie's  counterpane. 

"O,  I  see  some  things  you  don't  tell  me,"  said 
Jimmie.  "But,  Bob,  that  wasn't  what  I  was  going 
to  say,  after  all.  Do  you  know,  —  though  I  think 
the  other  boys  would  laugh  at  me  if  they  heard  me 
say  so,  —  there  are  some  things  I  would  sooner  say 
to  you  than  anybody,  if  I  can't  have  papa." 
10 


14G 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"What  sort  of  things?"  asked  Bob,  coloring  with 
a  pleased  flush,  as  if  he  knew  perfectly  well  big 
brother's  meaning. 

w  Why,  the  sort  of  things  I  should  say  to  papa, 
you  know,"  Jimmie  answered;  "and  I  want  now  to 
talk  about  one  of  these  things.  You  know  how  I 
got  this"  touching  his  broken  leg  ;  "  and  it  wouldn't 
have  happened  if  I  hadn't  been  too  much  frightened 
to  see  where  I  was  going.  And  yet,  Bob,  just  as 
the  sled  started  I  asked  God  not  to  let  me  be 
afraid.  I  know  it  was  all  right,  of  course;  but 
why,  do  you  suppose?" 

"Why,  Jimmie,"  said  Bob,  hesitating  a  little, 
though  he  evidently  caught  his  brother's  meaning, 
"I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  don't  believe  God  helps 
us  in  things  like  that." 

"But  it  says,  fAsk,  and  it  shall  be  given  you,'" 
said  Jimmie,  softly. 

"Ah,  but  don't  you  remember,"  said  Bob,  eagerly, 
looking  up  quickly,  —  "don't  you  remember  what 
papa  said  to  Geoffrey  once,  when  Jcflf  said  he  never 
got  what  he  wanted  when  he  prayed,  in  spite  of  the 
Bible's  saying  that?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jimmie,  smiling.    "  Geoffrey  wanted 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  147 

sleds  and  tops.  Of  course,  God  wouldn't  give  him 
those.  But,  Bob,  this  was  &  feeling  —  this  was  dif- 
ferent." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about  it,  Jim,"  said 
Bob,  very  much  occupied  in  plaiting  up  the  counter- 
pane fringe.  "We  all  have  thoughts  and  feelings, 
you  know,  just  as  we  all  have  brains,  only  we've  got 
to  learn  to  rule  them  ourselves.  Now,  I  believe  God 
has  something  to  do  with  everything  in  this  world, 
of  course,  because  —  well,  because.  But  don't  you 
see,  Jim,  that  if  he  managed  all  our  feelings  for  us, 
there  would  be  nothing  for  us  to  do  ourselves?  We 
should  be  just  like  puppets,  and  there  wrould  be  no 
need  for  us  to  have  any  brains,  or  souls,  or  any- 
thing." 

Bob's  face  had  got  very  red  during  this  speech, 
and  Jimmie  was  watching  him  with  a  quiet  little 
smile. 

"Yes,  I  see,"  said  he,  thoughtfully.  "Bob,  you're 
a  queer  fellow.  I  don't  think  any  of  the  other  fel- 
lows would  believe  you  would  say  a  thing  like  that." 

"Very  likely  not,"  said  Bob.  dryly;  "  and  I'm  sure 
I  wouldn't  to  them." 

Preparations  for  Christ  inas  went  on  just  the  same 


148 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


in  spite  of  grandpapa's  protestations  to  the  contrary, 
Jiminie  begged  so  earnestly  that  it  might  be  so,  that 
there  was  no  refusing  him ;  and  whenever  one  or 
the  other  of  the  household  entered  his  room,  the 
little  head  would  be  turned  on  the  pillow  to  ask 
eagerly  if  they  were  doing  this,  that,  or  the  other 
for  Christmas.  Whether  Colonel  Dalton  told  Lillie 
about  the  little  talk  he  had  had  with  Jimmie,  I  do 
not  know.  At  all  events,  Lillie  wras  one  of  Jimmie's 
most  successful  entertainers,  and  never  seemed  pret- 
tier or  more  sweet  than  when  in  the  sick  room. 
Indeed,  Lillie  had  much  improved  since  that  evening 
when  she  had  talked  with  Guy,  and  her  brother  was 
not  the  only  one  who  noticed  it.  Her  pleasant, 
pretty  ways  with  Jimmie  were  secretly  winning  her 
golden  opinions  from  Bob,  who,  as  his  wont  was, 
observed  and  said  nothing.  On  Lillie's  side,  the 
love,  however  awkwardly  expressed,  of  the  "rough 
boy  "  for  her  soldier  brother  had  done  wonders  in 
softening  her  first  prejudices  against  him.  She  felt, 
even,  as  if  she  could  overlook  his  blunt  words  to 
herself. 

Bob  was  standing  on  a  high  step-ladder  in  the 
back  parlor,  busily  fastening  up  the  evergreen  deco- 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  149 

rations  and  holly  wreaths  which  the  children  had 
scoured  the  woods  to  find,  while  on  the  lowest  step 
sat  Lillie,  making  more  wreaths  in  readiness  for  him* 

"How  beautifully  it  will  look!"  said  she,  casting 
an  admiring  glance  at  Bob's  handiwork. 

"Yes,"  said  he;  "but  it  will  be  no  Christmas  at 
all  without  Jim." 

«  Why  couldn't  we-  have  the  Christmas  tree  up  in 
his  room  ! "  Lillie  asked. 

Bob  shook  his  head.  "Too  much  noise.  You 
know  the  servants  and  people  on  the  place  always 
come  to  see  grandpapas  Christmas  trees,  and  it 
would  make  no  end  of  a  racket  in  his  room.  But 
Jimmie  wouldn't  hear  of  such  a  thing  as  their  losing 
their  fun." 

"But  it  is  so  stupid  for  him  to  have  his  things 
just  handed  to  him!"  said  Lillie.  "Bob,  why 
wouldn't  it  do  to  have  a  little  tree  on  purpose  for 
him?" 

"It  might  be  a  good  plan,"  said  Bob,  turning 
round  on  the  top  step.  "But  how  could  we  manage 
it,  with  the  other  on  our  hands?  " 

"Why,  I  thought,"  said  Lillie  — "that  is,  I  have 
a  little  idea  in  my  head."    And  here  followed  the 


150 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


idea,  which,  however,  I  will  not  tell  now,  for  fear 
it  should  spoil  the  story.  Something  very  pleasant 
it  must  have  been,  for  Bob  sat  down  on  the  top  step, 
exclaiming,  «  Lillie,  you're  a  trump  !  I  think  I  shall 
have  to  propose  you  as  a  member  of  the  f  J.  G.  TV" 

"Will  you,  really?"  cried  Lillie,  with  a  radiant 
face.    "  O,  if  you  will !  and  they  will  let  me  in  !  " 

"I'll  take  care  of  that,"  said  Bob;  "and,  Lillie,  I 
think  I  shall  change  your  plan  enough  to  introduce 
the  part  of  good  fairy  for  you.  I'm  sure  you  de- 
serve it." 

"O,  you  may  improve  as  much  as  you  please," 
she  returned,  laughing  gleefully;  and  thereupon 
the  preparations  for  the  festivities  were  redoubled. 
Great  mystery  prevailed,  only  the  "J.  G.  T."  being 
taken  into  counsel.  Bob,  Lillie,  or,  indeed,  any 
member  of  the  club,  was  continually  to  be  met 
coming  out  of  a  room  which  adjoined  Jimmie's,  and 
which  had  hitherto  been  unoccupied.  Yet  such  was 
the  silence  of  the  proceedings  in  this  room,  that 
no  sound  reached  the  ears  of  the  little  invalid.  Ar- 
thur was  very  often  seen  scribbling,  or  biting  his 
pencil,  over  a  bit  of  paper,  while  Fanny,  Lillie,  or 
even  Sue,  was  occasionally  surprised  with  mysteri- 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  l.r>l 

ous  bits  of  needlework;  but  both  grandpapa  and 
•nuudmamma  were  too  much  used  to  «  secrets  "  in 
that  famous  club  to  ask  embarrassing  questions. 

Christmas  came  at  last  — as  bright  a  day  as  heart 
could  desire.  The  morning  was  spent  chiefly  in 
entertaining  Jimmie,  for  whom  the  uninitiated  elders 
feared  a  stupid  Christmas,  though  the  little  fellow's 
face  on  the  white  pillow  was  as  merry  and  bright  as 
possible. 

As  the  day  advanced,  and  the  back  parlor  received 
very  frequent  visits,  Charley  and  Geoffrey  were  con- 
tinually flying  backward  and  forward  between  that 
apartment  and  Jimmie's  room,  to  report  progress. 
Not  that  they  were  admitted  —  no,  indeed  !  Cousin 
Jack,  who,  with  the  rest  of  his  family,  had  arrived 
for  the  Christmas  dinner,  knew  better  than  that ;  but 
the  little  boys  affirmed,  that,  by  listening  at  the 
door,  they  could  tell  pretty  nearly,  by  the  hammer- 
in"-,  or  the  chance  remarks  of  one  and  another  of  the 
« J.  G.  T.,"  how  matters  stood  within. 

At  last  the  folding  doors  were  opened,  and  Jimmie 
heard  cousin  Sue  playing  her  gayest  waltzes  on  the 
piano,  as  she  always  did  at  such  times.  He  sent 
down  the  occupants  of  his  room  forthwith,  calling 


152 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


after  them,  in  his  brightest  little  tone.  ffJSTow  laugh 
and  joke  just  as  much  as  you  always  do.  I  shall 
listen  for  everybody's  voice."  And  there  the  little 
fellow  lay,  with  a  bright,  happy  smile,  laughing 
and  chipping  his  hands  whenever  he  heard  the 
sounds  below. 

Grandpapa's  Christmas  trees  were  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  occasions.  Everybody  came,  from  aunts 
and  cousins  clown  to  the  lowest  servant  on  the  place, 
and  everybody  had  presents.  Of  course,  I  can't  stop 
to  enumerate  everybody's  presents;  but  I  have  no 
doubt  that  everybody  was  satisfied.  Bob's  face,  in 
particular,  perfectly  shone  as  he  opened  a  beautiful 
case  of  mathematical  instruments,  which  he  had  long 
been  wishing  for,  and  which  his  grandfather  had 
chosen  as  his  present. 

Cousin  Jack  was,  as  usual,  the  chief  merrymaker 
of  the  occasion;  and  so  successful  were  his  efforts  at 
entertainment,  that  few  people  noticed  a  very  pro- 
tracted absence  of  Fanny,  Arthur,  Bob,  and  Lillie, 
after  the  distribution  of  the  presents.  The  fact  was, 
they  were  in  that  mysterious  up-stairs  room;  and 
certainly  Sue  and  cousin  Jack  — the  ?fX.  J.  G.  TVs," 
Jis  Bob  called  them  —  must  have  been  taken  into 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  153 


confidence,  or  their  absence  never  could  have  been 
covered  so  well.  Colonel  Ddton  did,  indeed,  look 
about  several  times  for  his  little  sister;  but  as  he 
was  one  of  those  few  discreet  people  who  know  when 
to  keep  their  own  counsel,  he  called  nobody's  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  she  was  not  in  the  room.  Pos- 
sibly cousin  Sue  had  given  him  a  hint. 

"And  now,"  said  grandmamma,  when,  at  last, 
everybody  had  admired  and  exclaimed  enough,  and 
the  servants  had  gone  down  stairs  with  their  treas- 
ures, "  now  for  Jimmie's  presents  !  Dear  little  fel- 
low !  only  to  think  of  his  lying  there  alone  all  this 
time,  so  bright  and  happy  !  "  For  Jimmie's  sweet 
little  laugh  had  been  heard,  once  and  again,  by 
listeners  on  the  stairs. 

Grandmamma  advanced  to  the  tree,  to  take  off 
Jimmie's  numerous  presents ;  but  to  her  astonish- 
ment not  one  of  them  was  to  be  seen. 

"Why,  how  is  this?"  exclaimed  she,  turning 
round.  "Jack,  did  you  forget  to  hang  them  on 
the  tree?" 

"Mt*dam,"  said  cousin  Jack,  in  the  demurest  tone, 
w  if  you  will  accept  my  arm,  and  allow  me  to  lead 
you  up  stairs,  perhaps  we  may  find  some  of  the 
missing  valuables.' 


154 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


He  talked  off  grandmamma,  still  in  a  state  of 
amazement;  and  the  rest  of  the  party  following  the 
lead,  everybody  was  speedily  up  stairs. 

"Here  you  all  are!"  said  Jimmie,  gayly.  "Has 
everybody  had  a  nice  time,  and  got  everything 
they  wanted?  I've  enjoyed  it  ever  so  much,  grand- 
mamma." 

But  before  grandmamma  could  reply,  the  door 
between  the  rooms,  just  opposite  Jimmie's  bed,  was 
suddenly  thrown  open  from  within ;  and  such  an  un- 
expected sight  met  everybody's  eyes,  that  they  all 
seemed  struck  dumb  with  astonishment.  The  room 
was  all  festooned  and  garlanded  like  the  parlor  down 
stairs,  while  on  what  looked  like  a  little  mound  of 
evergreens,  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  stood  a  tiny 
Christmas  tree,  lighted,  like  the  large  one  down 
stairs,  w7ith  colored  tapers  —  nothing  else  upon  it. 
The  whole  room,  brightly  lighted,  wreathed  so 
prettily  with  greens  and  holly,  and  starting  up  so 
suddenly,  seemed  so  much  like  a  scene  from  Fairy- 
land, that  everybody  exclaimed  —  Jimmie  first  of  all. 
But  before  any  -questions  could  be  asked,  a  voice 
belonging  to  some  invisible  speaker,  which  sounded, 
as  Geoffrey  proclaimed    in    a   loud   whisper,  like 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  155 


"Arthur  behind  the  door,"  began  to  recite  theso 
lines :  — 

We  often  hear  from  folks  who  think  they  know, 

That  fairies  left  this  earth  long,  long  ago, 

Or,  even  would  we  but  submit  to  their  wise  diction, 

They  never  lived  at  all,  except  in  fiction. 

I  need  not  tell  you,  if  you  ever  meet 

These  people,  over-wise  in  self-conceit, 

Who  prize  so  much  the  sharpness  of  their  sight, 

That  they  are  prone  to  stand  in  their  own  light. 

"  Fairies,"  they  say,  "  on  earth  are  never  seen"? 

Not  so,  although,  indeed,  they're  few  and  far  between. 

The  reason,  this  :  they  come  to  those  alone 

Who  care  for  others  —  not  for  Number  1. 

Some  souls  there  are  of  whom  this  may  be  said  — 

Some  souls  — though  few  enough,  I  am  afraid, 

And  of  these  few  the  kindly  little  elves 

Delight  to  take  the  care  they  don't  take  of  themselves. 

One  Christmas  —  O,  but  here  I  make  a  pause, 

To  tell  you  fairies  are  great  friends  of  Santa  Claus  — 

A  little  boy  —  (his  name  to  tell  I'm  fain)  — 

Was  lying  patient  on  a  bed  of  pain. 

"  What  shall  we  do  this  year?  "  his  family  said. 

"  We  can't  be  merry  with  you  here  in  bed." 

He  answered,  smiling,  "  Have  your  Christmas  tree. 

The  others  mustn't  lose  their  fun  for  me." 

So  said  he,  dreaming  not,  that  ere  the  words  were  done, 

A  fairy  lightly  whispered,  "  You  shan't  lose  your  fun." 

But  here  I  ask  my  kindly  hearers'  grace 

To  stand  aside*  and  give  the  fairy  speaker  place. 


As  Arthur's  voice  ceased  speaking,  the  fairy,  in 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


whom  the  audience  recognized  Lillie,  came  dancing 
lightly  on  the  stage,  with  white  dress,  silver  slippers, 
crown  and  wand,  and  the  most  wonderful  gauzy 
white  wings.  She  was  greeted  with  rapturous  ap- 
plause ;  but,  without  stopping  for  that,  she  whirled 
about  on  one  foot,  and  immediately  took  up  the 
story  where  Arthur  had  dropped  it :  — 

Through  forest  glade,  through  sylvan  shade, 
This  morning  bright,  in  airy  flight, 

I  sought  this  Christmas  tree  so  fair. 
Where'er  I  find  a  generous  mind, 
Taking  no  thought  for  its  own  sport, 

Its  pleasure  straight  becomes  my  care. 

This  little  tree  you  all  may  see. 

I'd  have  you  know  such  do  not  grow 

Without  the  realms  of  fairy  wood. 
To  make  it  bear  is  now  my  care. 
So  fair  a  tree,  'twould  pity  be 

The  fruit  should  prove  less  good. 

To  gain  this  end,  I  need  a  friend 
Who,  at  my  call,  will  come  with  all 
I  can  require.    Ho,  Santa  Claus  ! 

Here  Lillie  ran  to  the  fireplace,  and  called  the 
name  up  the  chimney.  To  the  intense  delight  of 
Jimmie  and  Geoffrey,  a  stilled  voice  was  heard  in 
reply  :  — 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  157 


"  I'm  here,  good  fay  — you  needn't  call  me  twice. 
My  sack  is  heavy ;  but  I'm  coming  in  a  trice." 

And  coming  apparently  down  the  chimney  ap- 
peared Bob,  voluminously  stuffed  out  with  pillows, 
attired  in  a  garb  of  furs,  an  improvised  beard  that 
nearly  covered  his  face,  his  nose  painted  red,  and  on 
his  back  a  sack  crammed  with  presents.  He  was 
greeted  with  a  shout  from  the  children. 

"  Good,"  said  the  fairy.    "  What  have  you  got?  " 
"You'd  better  say,"  said  Santa  Claus,  "what  have  I  not? 
Books,  pictures,  toys,  — 
Everything  that  pleases  boys  ; 
Fur  gloves  —  I  think  I  put  in  mates  — 
And  here  —  yes  —  here's  a  pair  of  skates." 

And  so  on,  through  a  long  list  of  presents  which 
he  unpacked  from  his  voluminous  sack,  mumbling  to 
himself  between  his  teeth,  while  the  fairy  looked  on, 
trying  hard  not  to  laugh. 

"Good,"  said  she,  at  last,  when  the  presents  were 
unpacked. 

"Now,  then,  help  me 
To  hang  them  just  as  they  should  be. 
Trees  by  their  fruits  are  known : 
I  think  I've  fairly  shown 
The  nature  of  this  Christmas  tree." 

And  here  Arthur's  voice  was  heard  again  behind 
the  door,  repeating,  — 


158 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"For  generous  souls  these  kindly  little  elves 
Delight  to  take  the  care  they  don't  take  for  themselves." 

And  Santa  Claus,  with  a  nod,  and  kindly, — 

"  A  hasty  performance,  but  good  in  its  way. 
Hope  you'll  find  nothing  broken —  I  bid  you  good  day,"  — 

disappeared  up  the  chimney. 

The  fairy  again  pirouetted  on  one  toe,  and  then,  aa 
all  the  children  rapturously  exclaimed,  rushed  sud- 
denly off  the  stage,  and  up  to  Jimmie's  bed. 

"How  do  you  like  it?"  cried  the  ex-fairy.  Jim- 
mie  had  been  nearly  speechless  all  this  time. 

"Like  it?"  exclaimed  he.  "Did  you  really  get  it 
up  on  purpose  for  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  just  on  purpose  for  you,"  cried  Lillie;  en- 
chanted. "  O,  it  was  such  fun !  Bob  put  in  the 
fairy  part,  and  fixed  the  room,  and  Arthur  wrote  the 
story,  and  —  " 

"And  the  whole  thing  was  Lillie's  idea,"  said  Bob, 
coming  forth  from  the  chimney  very  sooty,  and  still 
in  his  Santa  Claus  dress. 

"O,  I  am  so  much  obliged  to  you  all,"  said  Jim- 
mie,  looking  round  with  a  smile  of  ineffable  content- 
ment, "for  the  tree,  and  the  room,  and  the  idea,  and 
your  pretty  poetry,  Arthur!" 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  IN  SPITE  OF  A  BROKEN  LEG.  159 

"O,  it  was  only  a  scribble,"  said  Arthur,  fooling  a 
little  as  if  his  poem  hadn't  met  with  sufficient  «t 
tention. 

"  Now,  you  won't  say  I  haven't  had  a  merry  Christ- 
mas, grandpapa,"  said  .firmm* 

"Perhaps  not,"  grandpapa  replied.  "But  by  the 
way,  my  little  fellow,  don't  you  mean  to  make  a  closer 
acquaintance  with  your  Christmas  presents,  or  do  you 
mean  to  leave  them  all  night  on  the  tree,  where  Mrs. 
Fairy  hung  them  ?  " 

"Why,  I  do  believe,"  said  Jimmie,  in  consterna- 
tion, "that  I  had  forgotten  all  about  them." 

Nobody  felt  slighted,  however,  despite  this  frank 
avowal. 


100 


BATTLES  A  J  UOAl.fi* 


CHAPTER  IX. 


bob's  balloon  story. 


jTHAT  do  I  want  you  to  do  forme?"  re- 


his  room,  one  afternoon,  with  this  question.  The 
holidays  were  over  now;  the  little  band  of  merry- 
makers had  resolved  itself  into  its  every-day  number 
of  five,  and  the  "J.  G.  T."  seemed  to  have  converted 
itself  into  a  society  for  promoting  Jimmie's  happi- 
ness and  amusement. 

"  What  do  I  want  you  to  do  for  me  ? "  repeated 
Jimmie.  "O,  I  know.  If  you're  all  there,  I  should 
like  Bob  to  tell  one  of  his  stories." 

"Bob!"  echoed  Lillie,  who  sat  in  the  window 
embroidering  a  slipper  for  Guy  —  a  profound  secret. 
"Does  Bob  tell  stories?  I  thought  it  was  only  you 
who  did  that,  Jimmie." 

"O,  I  only  tell  other  people's  stories,"  said  Jim- 
mie, modestly.    M  I  mean,  I  tell  the  stories  I've 


peated  Jimmie,  as  Bob  put  his  head  into 


bob's  balloon  story. 


161 


read.  But  Bob  makes  up,  just  like  people  who 
write  books." 

"He  tells  you  things  that  have  happened  to  him- 
self," struck  in  Geoffrey,  who,  lying  on  the  bed,  was 
playing  checkers  with  Jirnmie.  "  All  sorts  of  adven- 
tures, you  know;  and  sometimes  you  can't  tell 
whether  he's  in  fun  or  in  earnest.  Mamma  says 
that,  when  he  and  Arthur  were  little  boys,  Bob  used 
to  tell  stories  out  loud  every  night,  to  put  Arthur 
and  himself  to  sleep.5' 

"But  Arthur  used  to  help,"  said  Bob,  laughing. 
"I  never  could  put  in  the  romantic  parts  myself;  so 
I  left  them  to  him." 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  one  of  that  kind  now,"  said 
Lillie;  "something  that  really  happened  to  you,  I 
mean." 

"Shall  it  be  embellished,  or  not,  Jirnmie,  as 
Beechnut  would  say?"  asked  Bob,  with  a  roguish 
glance  at  Jirnmie. 

"  Embellished,  I  guess,"  said  Jirnmie,  with  a  sly 
little  smile  back  at  Bob. 

Geoffrey  was  too  much  interested  in  the  checkers, 
and  Lillie  too  busy  counting  stitches,  to  notice  this 
Utile  aside. 

11 


162 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Well,  then,"  said  Bob,  perching  himself  on  the 
footboard,  "you  shall  hear  a  veritable  adventure  — 
something  that  happened  to  me  no  later  than  last 
Fourth  of  July.  O,  wait  a  minute!"  as  Arthur 
entered  the  room,  pencils  and  drawing-board  in 
hand;  "here  comes  our  ? special  artist;'  suppose, 
while  I  relate,  he  illustrates  for  me." 

"  Very  wrell ;  so  I  will,"  said  Arthur,  with  a  laugh, 
seating  himself  in  the  window. 

"How  long  people  always  are  in  getting  to  the 
beginning  of  a  story  !  "  said  Geoffrey,  apostrophizing 
his  checkers. 

"Last  Fourth  of  July,  then,"  said  Bob,  beginning 
very  briskly,  "  I  went  on  the  Common  in  the  after- 
noon to  see  what  was  going  on  —  " 

"  We  were  all  down  at  Rockedge  last  Fourth," 
interrupted  Geoffrey. 

"  It  is  very  uncivil  to  interrupt  a  person  in  that 
wray,  Geoffrey,"  said  Arthur,  looking  up  from  his 
drawing. 

"Yes,  you  were  all  clown  at  Rockedge,"  went  on 
Bob,  with  perfect  good  humor;  "but  I  had  come  up 
to  uncle  John's  for  the  da}r,  and  thought  that  perhaps 
I  might  stay  in  lor  the  fireworks  in  the  evening. 


bob's  balloon  story. 


163 


So,  as  I  have  said,  I  went  on  the  Common,  after 
dinner,  to  see  what  was  goin^  on.  It  wras  a  blazing 
hot  afternoon  ;  everything  was  very  dusty  and  noisy, 
and  there  were  piles  of  people,  lots  of  babies,  and 
any  quantity  of  peanuts  and  lemonade.  I  had  got 
rather  tired  of  pushing  about  through  the  crowd, 
and  was  thinking  of  going  back  to  wTait  for  some- 
thing more  lively,  when, looking  down  on  the  parade- 
ground,  I  saw  a  great  balloon,  painted  like  the  stars 
and  stripes,  and  on  it  a  name  wThich  I  couldn't  quite 
make  out. 

"'Is  that  balloon  going  off  soon,  do  you  know? 
said  I  to  a  man  at  my  elbow. 

"  'Yes,  very  soon,'  said  he,  seeming  to  know  all 
about  it.  'That's  the  great  balloon  E  Pluribus 
Unum,  and  Mr.  Leigh,  the  great  balloon  man,  is 
going  up  in  it  himself  directly.'  And  upon  that  I 
made  for  the  parade-ground. 

"  By  means  of  a  little  elbowing  I  got  into  the  front 
line  of  the  crowd,  and  there  was  the  E  Pluribus  Unum, 
puffed  out  with  gas,  all  ready  for  a  start,  and  the 
great  balloon  man  in  person  talking  to  the  people. 

"'The  motion's  easy,' said  he,  '  and  I  sometime 9 
find  it  very  cooling  to  get  into  the  upper  currents 


164 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


of  air  on  these  sultry  days.  Who's  for  a  flight  this 
fine  afternoon  ? ' 

"The  great  balloon  man  had  a  very  insinuating 
smile,  but  no  one  seemed  inclined  to  jump  at  his 
offer.    Suddenly  he  turned  to  me. 

"'Now,  here,'  said  he,  f  is  a  young  man  just  about 
the  size  and  weight  I  want.  What  do  you  say,  my 
young  friend?  will  you  make  a  little  voyage  with 
me?' 

" f  I  am  quite  willing,  sir,'  said  I,  for  I  was  rather 
taken  with  the  idea  of  going  up  in  a  balloon  just 
for  once. 

"'That's  right!'  cried  the  great  balloon  man,  evi- 
dently surprised.  'Jump  in,  then,  my  fine  fellow, 
and  we'll  be  off  in  a  minute  !  ' 

"  So  we  got  into  the  car,  which,  by  the  way,  I 
was  surprised  to  find  so  big,  and  presently,  amid  a 
great  shouting  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs,  up  we 
went.  Mr.  Leigh  and  I  scattered  handbills  clown  on 
the  people  below  all  the  time ;  and  you  have  no 
idea  how  quickly  they  began  to  look  like  pygmies 
scrambling  for  snow-flakes.  I  rather  liked  the  bal- 
loon  motion,  too;  I  had  always  fancied  it  must  be 
like  a  bird  flying,  and  now  I  was  sure  I  knew  just 


bob's  balloon  story. 


105 


how  an  eagle  felt.  Up,  up,  up,  Ave  went,  and  I 
was  delighted  to  discover  that  the  clouds  were  as 
blue,  close  to,  as  they  looked  on  the  earth.  I  kept 
my  eyes  wide  open,  for  I  thought  presently  we 
might  run  plump  into  the  moon,  and  I  wanted  to 
see  if  the  dark  spots  one  sees  through  the  telescope 
were  really  mountains  or  not.  My  eyes  ached  at 
last  with  staring  about  Jn  the  clouds  so  much;  sol 
looked  at  Mr.  Leigh  instead,  and  found  that  he  was 
looking  at  me  and  smiling. 

*f  My  young  friend,'  said  he,  in  a  winning  man- 
ner, fI  hope  you  have  no  pressing  engagements 
this  afternoon  —  have  you?' 

"  f  I  don't  think  of  any,'  said  I;  *  so  long  as  I  get 
back  for  the  fireworks  this  evening  I  am  willing  to 
stay  up  here  as  long  as  you  want.' 

"'Fireworks?  O,  yes,'  said  the  balloon  man, 
hesitating;  f  the  fact  is,  my  dear  young  friend,  that 
f  had  not  thought  of  returning  to  Boston  this  even- 
ing. I  —  ah  —  I  proposed  to  extend  my  journey 
somewhat  over  to-night ;  but  if  you  are  very  par- 
ticular — ' 

"By  that  time  I  had  bethought  myself  that,  as  you 
all  expected  me  to  stay  in  at  uncle  John's  for  the 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


fireworks,  and  as  uncle  John,  on  the  other  hand,  did 
not  know  but  I  might  go  down  to  Rockedge  before 
evening,  and  as,  after  all,  this  was  better  fun  than 
the  fireworks,  there  might  be  no  harm  in  my  stay- 
ing out,  and  so  I  told  Mr.  Leigh,  asking  wheie  lie 
meant  to  go. 

"f  Where?'  said  my  friend,  with  a  smile;  f  O  ~- 
ah  —  that  will  depend,  perhaps,  a  little  on  circum- 
stances.9 

"  By  this  time  we  had  quite  lost  sight  of  the  old 
State  House  dome ;  and  as  I  began  presently  to 
stare  down  instead  of  up,  I  saw,  far,  far  below  me, 
a  battle-field,  and  our  soldiers  fighting." 

"Which  was  beating?"  exclaimed  Geoffrey,  ex- 
cited. 

"O,  I  couldn't  tell  that;  they  were  so  small  that 
they  looked  like  the  little  tin  soldiers  Lillie  plays 
with  at  home.  Still  I  was  very  much  interested, 
and  I  begged  Mr.  Leigh  to  stop,  that  I  might  watch 
them.  But  he  explained,  with  a  great  deal  of 
learned  talk  about  gases,  and  winds,  and  so  forth, 
which  I  won't  bore  you  with  here,  that  he  couldn't 
do  it  without  great  personal-  inconvenience:  so  on 
we  went.    Presently  I  noticed  that  it  was  growing 


bob's  balloon  story. 


1G7 


rather  dark,  though  at  first  the  sunbeams  had  been 
so  bright  that  my  companion  gave  me  a  green  shade, 
and  put  one  on  himself,  so  that  we  looked  as  if 
we  came  straight  from  the  institution  at  South 
Boston.  I  thought  the  great  balloon  man  noticed 
this  darkness,  too,  for  he  shot  straight  up  a  great 
way,  as  if  to  get  out  of  some  cloud.  But  still  the 
darkness  continued;  and  presently,  after  we  had 
gone  up  a  good  way,  he  turned  to  me,  and  said, — 

w?My  young  friend,  I  apprehend  a  thunder-storm, 
and  as  the  E  Pluribus  Uimm  is  freshly  painted,  and 
the  red,  white,  and  blue  stripes  run  into  each  other 
very  easily,  I  propose,  if  agreeable  to  you,  that  we 
should  obtain  temporary  shelter  by  diving  directly 
beneath  the  terrestrial  ball.' 

w  He  pointed  down  as  he  spoke,  and,  to  my  amaze- 
ment, from  the  height  we  then  were,  we  could  see 
that  the  earth  was  really  a  great  round  ball,  and  was 
going  round  the  sun  as  neatly  as  possible. 

?e  'And  so  alight  in  China  ! '  said  I,  catching  at  the 
idea. 

"'Precisely,'  said  the  great  balloon  man;  \'m 
China,  since  you  propose  it.  For,  though  I  hadn't 
thought  of  it  before,  tea  at  the  court  of  the  Celestial 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Empire  would  be  preferable  to  the  somewhat  dry 
fare  we  have  with  us.'  I  forgot  to  say  that  we  had 
a  basket  of  provisions  in  the  car. 

"  Accordingly  Mr.  Leigh  did  something  or  other 
to  the  balloon,  and  we  began  to  shoot  downwards 
like  a  stone  dropped  into  a  well.  We  went  so  fast 
that  I  was  almost  frightened,  though  I  didn't  tell 
the  great  balloon  man  so.  Presently,  however,  I 
was  more  frightened  still,  for  the  balloon  suddenly 
turned  entirely  over,  —  a  complete  somersault,  — 
and  I  closed  my  eyes,  thinking  my  last  hour  had 
come.  Nothing  happened,  however,  except  that  I 
felt  as  if  my  head  was  where  my  heels  ought  to  be  ; 
and  pretty  soon  we  seemed  to  have  come  to  a  dead 
halt.  So  I  ventured  to  open  my  eyes  to  take  a  peep, 
and  to  my  intense  astonishment  there  we  all  were, 
—  Mr.  Leigh,  the  balloon,  and  I,  —  all  right  side  up, 
and  anchored  on  the  queerest  kind  of  building  I  had 
ever  seen.  It  was  shaped  like  a  summer-house,  and 
covered  all  over  thick  with  little  bells.  But  I  didn't 
have  time  to  look  about  me  much,  for  Mr.  Leigh, 
who  was  regarding  me  with  the  broadest  of  smiles, 
exclaimed  directly,  — 

"'Well,  here  avc  are,  my  dear  young  friend,  in 


bob's  balloon  story. 


169 


China,  as  you  wished,  and  on  the  top  of  a  Chinese 
pagoda !  In  what  precise  part  of  the  Celestial 
Empire  we  have  alighted  I  do  not  yet  know,  but, 
from  its  looks,  I  should  say  a  place  of  considerable 
importance.' 

w  Thereupon  I  looked  about  me,  and  the  very  first 
thing  I  saw  was  a  troop  of  monstrous  long-legged 
hens.    A  brilliant  idea  struck  me. 

"  ?  Shanghae  ! '  cried  I ;  f  may  not  this  be  Shanghae  ? ' 

frfIhave  no  doubt  you  are  right/  said  he;  'but 
the  question  is  now,  to  extricate  ourselves  from  this 
perplexing  situation.  We  might  easily  jump  from 
the  roof  of  the  pagoda  ourselves,  but  I  cannot  desert 
the  E  Pluribus  Unum  in  this  extremity,  nor  am  I 
willing  to  run  the  risk  of  getting  carried  away  from 
this  interesting  place  by  again  ascending.' 

"?0,  wait  a  minute  before  you  begin  to  talk  of 
getting  down,'  said  I ;  and,  jumping  out  of  the  car,  I 
pulled  my  knife  out  of  my  pocket,  and  began  to  cut 
off  the  bells  from  the  roof  as  fast  as  possible.  You 
see  I  remembered  that  Fanny  talked  of  having  a 
German  in  the  fall,  and  this  was  a  capital  chance  for 
getting  sleigh  bells.  But  I  hadn't  pocketed  more 
than  half  a  dozen,  when  out  of  the  pagoda  came  a 


170 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Chinese  mandarin,  dressed  in  red,  and  with  the 
longest  braided  tail  hanging  down  his  back  that  I 
had  ever  seen.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  him 
when  he  caught  sight  of  the  balloon,  Mr.  Leigh,  and 
myself.  I  suppose  he  had  been  asleep  in  the  sum- 
mer-house, and  my  walking  about  on  the  roof  had 
waked  him.  His  little  eyes  opened  so  wide  that 
they  really  became  quite  sizable,  and  he  uttered  a 
stream  of  ejaculations,  in  which  I  could  only  recog- 
nize a  great  many  g's.  Seeing,  I  suppose,  that  we 
didn't  understand  his  language,  he  had  recourse  to 
signs,  and  expressed  his  desire  that  we  should  come 
down,  balloon  and  all.  Mr.  Leigh  expressing,  in  the 
same  language,  his  fear  lest  the  balloon  should  carry 
us  up  into  the  air  again,  the  mandarin  appeared  for 
a  moment  nonplussed.  Presently,  however,  an  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him  ;  and,  coming  close  to  the  side  of 
the  pagoda,  what  did  he  do  but  hold  up  his  long  pig- 
tail, making  signs  that  he  would  tow  us  !  I  laughed, 
jumped  into  the  car  again,  and  in  this  style  we  went 
through  the  streets  of  Shanghae,  holding  on  to  the 
mandarin's  pigtail.  Fortunately  the  gas  was  almost 
out  of  the  balloon,  and  the  Chinaman  was  very  fat 
and  heavy,  or  the  E  Pluribus  Unum  might  have 
hauled  him  up. 


bob's  balloon  story. 


171 


SHANGHAE. 


w  China  is  a  very  odd  place  ;  but  if  you  want  to 
know  how  it  looks,  you  have  only  to  look  at  grand- 
mamma's little  tea-poy  tables.  There  it  all  was  in 
flesh  and  blood  —  people  sitting  out  under  the  trees, 
drinking  tea  out  of  Canton  china;  women  hobbling 
about  on  their  little  shoes  ;  queer  boats  sailing  about 
on  ponds,  and  everywhere  the  great,  long-legged, 
Shanghae  roosters.    I  forgot  to  say  that  we  found  it 


172 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


high  noon  in  China,  whereas  it  had  been  late  in  the 
afternoon  before  we  made  that  dive  under  the 
globe. 

"  We  were,  apparently,  en  route  for  the  chief 
mandarin's  palace,  or,  at  all  events,  we  arrived  there 
in  clue  time,  and,  leaving  the  E  Pluribus  outside, 
tied  to  a  tree,  in  we  went.  The  chief  mandarin 
looked  just  like  our  obliging  friend,  except  that  he 
was  yellower,  his  eyes  were  smaller,  and  he  had 
even  a  longer  braid.  He  received  us  with  great 
politeness  and  ceremony,  and,  wishing  to  make  some 
return  to  his  civilities,  I  thought  I  would  try  a 
little  Chinese,  as  I  had  heard  the  words  all  sounded 
much  alike. 

Chang  eng  jing  jolly  gong?'  said  I  to  the  chief 
mandarin,  stringing  together  all  the  Chinese  sound- 
ing words  I  could  think  of.  But  his  highness  only 
stared  at  me,  and  presently  sent  out  his  servant  for  a 
man,  who  proved  to  be  an  interpreter.  So  after  that 
wTe  got  on  quite  nicely,  and  we  had  to  tell  the  whole 
story  of  our  adventures,  everybody  in  the  palace 
going  out  to  stare  at  the  balloon.  Then  we  were 
entertained  with  cups  of  delicious  tea,  —  I  im- 
mediately thought  that  I  would  try  to  carry  back  a 


bob's  balloon  story. 


173 


chest  for  mamma,  —  and  his  highness,  if  they  call 
the  chief  mandarin  so,  asked  us  to  dine  with  him. 

"  *  What  a  lot  of  things  there  are  in  China,  to  be 
sure  ! '  said  I  to  myself,  beginning  to  think  of  im- 
proving my  opportunities ;  and,  hinting  to  the  in- 
terpreter, he  presently  brought  in  a  large  roll  of  rice 
paper,  which  I  had  wanted  for  Arthur,  and  some 
pretty  Japanese  fans  and  work-boxes,  which  I  meant 
to  carry  home  for  mamma  and  little  Lillie. 

"  f  Halloa  !  '  cried  I,  suddenly,  to  the  great  balloon 
man ;  c  China  is  the  place  where  they  make  fire- 
crackers—isn't it?  and  to-day  is  Fourth  of  July: 
how  very  lucky!'  and,  turning  to  the  interpreter, 
I  remarked,  f  Fire-crackers  ! '  The  interpreter,  who 
didn't  know  much  English,  after  ail,  looked  puzzled. 
So  I  had  to  resort  to  signs  again ;  and,  turning  to 
the  interpreter,  I  pretended  to  light  one  of  my 
fingers,  as  if  with  a  match. 

w'Spt  —  fzzz!'  said  I. 

"To  my  delight,  the  sagacious  interpreter  under- 
stood, and  nodded  his  head  a  great  many  times, 
smiling.  The  servant  presently  brought  in  a  great 
pile  of  fire-crackers  ;  but,  O  my  !  Jeff,  twice  as  big  as 
we  get  them  here  !    Upon  that  we  all  went  out  again, 


174 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


and  had  a  grand  time  firing  them ;  and  I  bethought 
myself  that  in  the  evening  Ave  could  have  some 
Chinese  fireworks. 

"And  now  we  were  summoned  in  to  dinner,  and, 
to  my  surprise,  found  that  the  room  was  darkened, 
though  it  was  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  illuminated 
with  Chinese  lanterns.  The  women  in  the  palace  all 
came  toddling  in,  some  of  them  so  very  lame  that  I 
should  have  been  tempted  to  offer  my  arm  to  one,  if 
I  had  been  sure  that  the  chief  mandarin  wouldn't 
have  been  angry. 

"The  table  all  looked  quite  familiar,  I  suppose 
because  the  china  was  like  grandmamma's  blue 
dinner-set ;  but  such  queer-looking  things  to  eat ! 

"  f  My  dear  Mr.  Leigh,'  said  I,  confidentially,  f  what 
would  you  advise  me  to  eat?  I  recognize  but  one 
familiar  dish  on  the  bill  of  fare,  but  I  have  an  un- 
conquerable aversion  to  boiled  rice.' 

"?I  should  advise  you,  then,  to  partake  of  bird's 
nest  soup,'  said  the  great  balloon  man,  gravely.  ?I 
have  heard  that  it  is  very  satisfying;  so  perhaps 
you  will  not  require  anything  more.'  So  I  followed 
his  advice. 

"But  now  appeared  a  fresh  difficulty.    The  Chinese, 


bob's  balloon  story. 


175 


you  know,  eat  with  chop-sticks;  and,  with  a  little 
practice,  I  thought  I  could  manage  them  when  the 
meat  came  in.  But  it  is  impossible  to  eat  soup  with 
chop-sticks,  and  in  Shangbae  it  seemed  to  be  the 
fashion  to  drink  it.  Mr.  Leigh  and  I  tried  to  follow 
the  example  of  our  hosts  ;  but,  to  our  horror,  the 
soup  was  so  sticky  that  I  came  very  near  going 
through  life  glued  to  a  blue  china  soup-plate,  like  the 
old  woman  to  the  fairy  tale,  with  a  black  pudding  on 
the  end  of  her  nose.  I  was  only  too  thankful  to 
become  separated  from  it  after  my  first  taste,  and  did 
not  try  the  soup  again.  Presently  some  meat  was 
brought  in,  and  being  hungry,  —  for  the  soup  had 
not  proved  satisfying  in  the  sense  I  had  expected,  — 
I  thought  I  would  have  some.  It  was  cut  up  in 
little  pieces,  and  I  found  it  quite  nice. 

"'Kabbit?'  said  I  to  the  interpreter,  who  sat  be- 
side me. 

"He  shook  his  head,  and  said  something  that 
sounded  like  f  Poopee.\  Not  understanding,  I  looked 
puzzled,  when  just  then  a  little  dog  came  running 
into  the  room  —  a  little  white,  curly  poodle. 

weAh!'  cried  the  interpreter,  pointing  to  it,  and 
pulling  my  sleeve.    f  Ah  !    There!  Poopec!' 


176 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"I  dropped  my  chop-sticks  —  " 
All  through  Bob's  recital  he  had  been  interrupted 
from  time  to  time  by  bursts  of  laughter  from  his 
auditors;  but  at  this  moment  there  was  such  a  peal 
that  he  stopped  and  looked  up.  Arthur,  who  bad 
kept  pace  with  his  illustrations,  had  just  held  up  a 
picture  of  Bob  and  the  balloon  man  glued  to  their 
soup-plates,  which,  with  Bob's  situation  in  the  story, 
was  too  irresistibly  ludicrous. 

"Bob  Stanley,"  cried  Lillie,  as  soon  as  she  could 
speak,  "what  a  perfect  rigmarole  you  have  been 
telling  us  !  I  thought  I  asked  you  for  a  true  story  — 
something  that  really  happened  to  you." 

"Well,"  said  Bob,  with  an  injured  air,  "  why  don't 
you  let  me  finish  my  story  then,  and  tell  you  how 
Mr.  Leigh  and  I  got  back  to  Boston  ? " 

"Because,  of  course  I  don't  believe  a  word  of 
what  you've  been  saying.  Do  you  call  this  a  true 
story  ?  " 

"A  true  story,  embellished,  after  Beechnut's 
fashion,"  said  Bob. 

"Beechnut  —  who's  he?"  said  Lillie,  puzzled. 

"  O,  Lillie,"  cried  Jimmie,  enchanted,  "  didn't  you 
ever  read  (he  Franconia  Stories?    O,  how  1  should 


bob's  balloon  story. 


177 


like  to  read  them  with  you  —  Malleville,  and  Beech- 
nut, and  Ellen  Linn,  and  all !  " 

"But  how  much  of  the  story  is  true?"  persisted 
Lillie. 

"  Well,"  said  Bob,  coolly,  "it's  true  that  I  went  in 
to  uncle  John's  last  Fourth,  and  went  on  the  Com- 
mon, and  saw  a  balloon  called  the  E  Pluribus  Unum 
just  going  up,  and  Mr.  Leigh  himself  inside  of  it." 

"And  he  didn't  even  ask  you  to  get  in?"  said 
Lillie,  confounded.  "Why,  you  told  all  that  part 
so  naturally,  that  I  thought  of  course  it  was  true." 

"Ah,  that's  just  the  fun  of  it,"  said  Geoffrey, 
triumphantly.  "  I  told  you  that  Bob  told  things  so 
that  you  wouldn't  know  whether  he  was  in  fun 
or  in  earnest.  He  can  make  up  just  as  fast  as 
he  can  speak." 

Arthur's  illustrations  were  now  exhibited,  and  the 
laughter  Bob's  story  had  excited  was  renewed  over 
these.  Bob  going  up  in  the  E  Pluribus  Unum,  the 
balloon  turning  a  somersault  round  the  globe,  the 
balloon  on  top  of  the  pagoda,  with  the  mandarin 
offering  his  pigtail,  all  were  there.  Arthur  had 
considerable  artistic  talent;  and  so  merry  were  the 
12 


178 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


young  folks  over  his  sketches,  that  the  tea-bell  had 
been  rung  several  times  before  they  heard  it. 

"Guidie,"  said  Lillie,  that  night,  when  she  was 
having  her  usual  little  good-night  chat  with  her 
brother  on  the  hall  stairs,  "I  think  Bob  Stanley  must 
have  a  'great  many  sides  '  to  him,  as  I  heard  you  say 
of  somebody  the  other  day." 

"Most  people  have,"  Guy  replied;  "but  why  do 
you  call  Bob  many-sided,  Lillie?" 

"He  is  so  different  at  different  times,"  said  Lillie. 
"Sometimes  he  is  so  blunt,  and  almost  rough,  that  I 
don't  like  him  a  bit;  though,  after  all,  he  is  always 
honest,  and  that  I  like.  When  I  first  came  here,  he 
used  to  be  so  silent  and  glum,  that  I  thought  he 
couldn't  talk  at  all;  but  now  he  is  so  merry  and 
funny  sometimes  !  And  this  afternoon  he  has  been 
telling  the  drollest  story  I  ever  heard,  making  it  all 
up  as  he  went  along.  Then  Jimmie  told  me  once 
that  he  sometimes  liked  to  talk  to  Bob  just  as  he 
does  to  his  father;  Bob  always  understands  him 
better  than  any  one  else,  and  sometimes  says  things 
that  sound  old  and  grave  enough  for  Mr.  Standley 
himself.  And  I  am  sure  that  is  another  different 
side." 


bob's  balloon  story. 


179 


"Bob  has  a  great  deal  of  character,  I  should 
think,"  said  Colonel  Dalton.  "If  I  am  not  mistaken 
in  him,  he  will  turn  out  a  very  fine  man  some  of 
these  days." 

"O,  I  wish  he  could  hear  you  say  that,"  cried 
Lillie,  gleefully.    "He  —  " 

It  was  on  her  lips  to  tell  Guy  of  Bob's  admiration 
for  himself ;  but  a  sol't  of  intuitive  idea  that  Bob 
would  not  like  this,  stopped  her.  So  she  only  kissed 
her  brother,  and  ran  off  to  bed,  mentally  resolving  to 
treasure  up  what  Guy  had  said  of  Bob,  as  a  pleasant 
thing  to  be  repeated  to  him  some  day. 


180 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  X. 
Arthur's  friend,  steve  lenox. 

IT  occurs  to  me  that  in  telling  this  story  of  my 
four  boys,  I  have  hitherto  said  very  little  of 
Arthur;  and  id  that  respect  I  am  certainly  not  tell- 
ing my  story  as  I  ought,  for  it  is  not  in  his  own 
opinion  only  that  Arthur  is  a  very  important  person- 
age. As  I  said  in  my  first  chapter,  his  younger 
brothers  all  regarded  Arthur's  manner  of  doing 
things  as  the  right  way,  and  even  Bob,  superior  to 
his  elder  brother  as  he  might  be  in  some  ways,  had 
perfect  confidence  in  Arthur's  tact.  All  this  is  very 
well.  Self-possession  and  the  power  of  doing  our- 
selves justice  in  the  eyes  of  others  are  very  good 
traits  to  have.  But  having  these,  Arthur  yet  lacked 
one  very  important  thing,  and  that  was,  as  his  father 
had  said,  moral  courage.  It  was  this  want  in  his 
character  which  made  him,  with  all  his  self-confi- 
dence, an  easy  person  to  lead;  a  little  ridicule, 
Bkilf ully  used,  could  turn  him  to  anything,  for  he 


Arthur's  friend,  steve  lenox. 


181 


had  not  quite  Bob's  firmness  of  principle.  Another 
thing:  Arthur  was  not  wholly  free  from  worldli- 
ness;  and,  if  a  person  possessed  riches,  name,  or 
position,  he  was  apt  to  acquire  undue  weight  in  his 
eyes.  I  say  again,  as  I  said  before,  that  he  had  a 
great  many  good  qualities ;  but  these  were  his 
faults  ;  and  his  father  regarded  them  as  such  dan- 
gerous ones,  that,  in  going  away,  I  think  he  had 
more  fears  for  Arthur  than  for  any  of  his  little  band 
of  warriors,  as  he  had  called  them. 

At  Arthur's  school  there  was  a  boy  named  Steve 
Lenox  —  several  years  older  than  Arthur,  and  who, 
from  his  age,  as  well  as  for  some  other  reasons  I 
am  going  to  tell  you,  was  regarded  as  a  leader 
among  the  boys.  He  was  a  handsome,  high-spirited 
fellow,  and  rather  a  favorite  in  school,  though  I  am 
afraid  it  was  more  because  he  was,  in  a  manner,  his 
own  master,  had  plenty  of  money  to  spend,  and 
lived  in  a  splendid  house  on  the  Milklam,  than 
because  he  was  remarkable  either  for  principles  or 
scholarship.  He  had  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  Arthur, 
as  indeed  people  were  apt  to  do  ;  and  Arthur  waa 
so  much  flattered  by  his  notice,  that  he  rared  mora 
for  his  society  than  for  any  other. 


182 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Now,  Air.  Stanley  had  dreaded  the  influence  of 
this  Steve  Lenox  over  his  son,  and,  as  you  may 
remember,  had  turned  the  conversation  very  quick- 
ly, when  Arthur  suggested  the  possibility  of  Steve 
Lenox  asking  him  to  visit  him.  Mr.  Stanley  was 
not  a  prejudiced  person,  but  he  had  seen  enough  of 
this  boy  to  know  that,  growing  np,  as  he  had,  with- 
out a  father's  influence  (for  old  Mr.  Lenox  had  died 
when  Steve  was  a  mere  baby),  petted  and  indulged 
by  a  silly,  worldly  mother,  left  at  home  to  his  own 
devices,  or  sent  to  boarding-school,  where  he  learned 
a  great  many  things  more  quickly  than  he  did  "book 
learning,"  Steve  Lenox,  at  seventeen,  with  a  great 
deal  of  what  boys  would  call  fast  about  him,  was  a 
dangerous  companion  for  his  son. 

You  may  be  very  sure  that  the  inmates  of  Lake- 
side Hill  were  not  lon^  without  hearing  the  name  of 
Steve  Lenox,  for  this  friendship  was  a  special  bone 
of  contention  between  Arthur  and  Bob.  I  do  not 
think  it  was  only  because  Steve  treated  him  as  a 
youngsf  er,  that  Bob  disliked  him  so  much.  He  had 
a  sort  of  intuitive  shrinking  from  him,  and  in  his 
secret  soul  I  think  he  was  afraid  of  Steve's  influence 
over  his  brother. 


ARTHUR'S  FRIEND,   STEVE  LENOX. 


183 


«  He's  too  old  for  you,  Arthur,"  he  said  once. 

«  Really, "  said  Arthur,  annoyed,  "I  think  I  am  the 
best  judge  of  whether  my  friends  suit  me  or  not. 
Besides,  two  years  is  not  such  a  great  difference, 
after  all." 

??  But  Steve  is  a  great  deal  older  than  seventeen  in 
some  things,"  said  Bob,  sagely.  "I  am  only  one 
year  younger  than  you,  but  I  am  sure  he's  ten  years 
too  old  for  me!  " 

And  thereupon  Arthur  would  say  that  Bob  must 
be  very  young  for  his  age,  though  he  knew  that  this 
was  very  far  from  being  the  truth  ;  and  so  the  matter 
would  be  left.  Arthur  would  cling  to  Steve  Lenox, 
and  Bob  would  continue  to  look  askance  at  him. 

When  Lillie  Dalton  gave  her  New  Year's  party, 
Steve  Lenox  was,  at  Arthur's  instigation,  invited. 
He  came,  and  fired  Bob's  very  soul  by  the  supercili- 
ous condescension  with  which  he  treated  the  younger 
o-uests.  At  least,  Bob  considered  him  supercilious; 
but  Mr.  Osborne,  on  the  other  hand,  delighted  Ar- 
thur by  praising  his  friend.  Steve  was  a  handsome 
fellow,  and  could  be  very  engaging  if  he  chose  ;  and, 
besides,  hir,  father  had  been  an  old  friend  of  grand- 
papa's ;  so  perhaps  he  was  not  a  fair  judge.  But 


184 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Arthur  did  not  fail  to  remark  to  Bob,  with  a  trium- 
phant air,  on  the  impression  his  friend  had  made  at 
Lakeside  Hill. 

"I  know,  for  once;9  said  Bob,  sententious!^ 
"But,  all  the  same,  that's  not  knowing  him.  Be- 
sides, grandpapa  knew  old  Mr.  Lenox;  but  his 
having  been  a  very  good  man  doesn't  make  Steve  a 
very  good  boy.  Whatever  grandpapa  may  say  about 
influences,  he  died  when  Steve  was  a  baby." 

"You're  disrespectful,  Bob/'  said  Arthur  in  his 
elder-brother  manner.  "I  don't  pretend  to  say  that 
Steve  hasn't  faults,  but  I  dare  say  a  great  many 
other  people  would,  too,  if  they'd  grown  up  as  he 
has."  So  Bob  turned  on  his  heel,  and  went  away,  to 
prevent  himself  from  saying  anything  more. 

Presently  came  the  long-wished-for  invitation  to 
Arthur  to  visit  Steve  Lenox.  Mrs.  Lenox  was  p-o- 
ing  away  for  a  month's  visit,  and  Steve,  as  Arthur 
delightedly  proclaimed,  "was  to  have  two  or  three 
of  the  fellows  staying  with  him.  And  you're  invit- 
ed, too,  Bob,  for  one  night,"  added  he.  "There's 
to  be  a  meeting  of  the  f  Quicksilver  Club'  that  day. 
Steve's  president,  you  know,  and  he  warts  you  to 
stay.  ' 


Arthur's  friend,  steve  lenox. 


135 


"I  don't  mean  to,  though,"  said  Bob,  shortly. 

"  Well,  that's  a  civil  way  of  receiving  an  invitation 
for  your  company,  I  must  say,"  said  Arthur. 

"He  doesn't  wish  for  my  company,"  said  Bob; 
"  he  asks  me  because  he  can't  help  himself.  He 
knows  there's  no  use  in  having  the  club  meeting 
without  me ;  and  because  you're  to  be  there,  he 
thinks  he  must  ask  me  to  stay  all  night." 

Grandpapa  looked  up  from  his  newspaper. 

"What  is  all  this  about,  boys?"  said  he.  "Bob, 
I  think,  as  Arthur  says,  that  you  receive  this  invi- 
tation in  a  very  improper  way;  besides  which,  one 
part  of  your  last  speech,  sounded  to  me  somewhat 
conceited." 

"I  did  not  mean  to  say  anything  conceited,  sir," 
said  Bob,  coloring.  "I  only  meant  that  I  held  a 
very  important  position  in  the  club." 

"Very  likely,  very  likely,"  said  Mr.  Osborne, 
hastily;  "but  that  does  not  excuse  this  habit  you 
have  of  cavilling  at  your  brother's  friends.  I  must 
say  1  don't  like  it.  I  approve  of  Arthur's  cultivat- 
ing Steve  Lenox's  acquaintance,  and  it  is  not  for 
you  to  interfere.  I  don't  like  to  see  you  so  unso- 
cial and  unfriendly." 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Why,  grandpapa!"  said  Jimmie,  now  down 
Stairs  on  crutches.  "Bob  has  more  friends  than  any 
of  us." 

"Steve  Lenox  is  no  friend  of  mine,  though,"  said 
Bob,  stoutly. 

"  Let  me  hear  no  more  about  it,"  said  grandpapa, 
irritated.  "If  you  care  for  what  I  say,  Robert,  you 
will  go,  as  you  are  asked." 

"Then  I  do  care,  sir,"  said  Bob,  "and  I  will  go." 

Bob  had  been  very  right  in  thinking  that  the  in- 
vitation was  a  compulsory  one  on  Steve's  part.  He 
knew  very  well  that  Bob  saw  through  him,  and  dis- 
liked his  influence  over  Arthur ;  and  it  is  not  to  be 
expected  that  he  should  himself  regard  Bob  with 
any  great  favor.  Again,  Bob  was  younger  than  his 
"set,"  and  would,  as  Steve  surmised,  prove  a  fatal 
drawback  to  some  of  the  amusements  popular  with 
himself  and  his  friends.  However,  there  was  the 
meeting  of  the  "Quicksilver  Base  Ball  Club,"  in 
which  Bob  held  the  important  position  of  pitcher. 
It  seemed  almost  impossible  to  avoid  asking  him. 
"After  all,  it's  only  for  one  night,"  said  Steve; 
and  the  invitation  was  given. 

With  the  base  ball  set  Bob  was  very  popular,  his 


ARTHUR'S  FRIEND,   STEVE  LENOX. 


187 


skill  in  the  game  making  him  of  so  much  importance 
that  his  age  was  quite  overlooked.  But  when,  after 
the  meeting,  the  members  of  the  club  left  the  house, 
Bob  felt  as  if  he  were  considered  quite  out  of  his 
element.  Only  one  of  the  "Quicksilvers,"  Ned  Mil- 
man,  a  great,  tall,  athletic  fellow,  had  remained; 
the  others  were  Arthur,  Steve,  and  two  of  his  "fast 
set,"  Haseltine  and  Gilmore,  and  Bob  very  well 
knew7  they  all  regarded  him  as  a  mere  baby — never 
the  pleasantest  piece  of  knowledge  to  any  boy. 

"That  business  despatched,  "said  Ned  Milman,  as 
the  door  closed  on  the  "  Quicksilvers,"  "  what  now, 
Steve  ?  " 

"Why  anything  now?"  said  Fred  Haseltine,  as  he 
lazily  tipped  his  chair  backwards  and  forwards  on 
two  legs,  and  lighted  a  cigar.  "I'm  very  well  con- 
tent to  smoke,  though,  to  be  sure,"  with  a  glance  at 
Bob,  "  it  mayn't  suit  all  members  of  the  present 
company." 

"That's  very  true,"  said  good-natured  Ned,  with 
a  laugh,  rr  though  I  don't  think  Bob  is  the  only  one 
among  us  who  doesn't  care  for  smoking.  Hard 
work  —  isn't  it,  Arthur  ?  " 

For  Arthur,  afraid  of  being  laughed  at  if  he  re- 


188 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


fused,  had  taken  a  cigar,  as  the  others  did,  and  was 
now  looking  rather  pale  and  uncomfortable,  as  he 
deserved. 

"Not  very,"  said  he,  stoutly,  trying  to  smile. 
"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Ned,  who  made  fun  of  every- 
body. 

"  Doirt  give  in,  Arty  !  Wouldn't  3^011  think,  to 
look  at  him,  Fred,  that  he  had  smoked  all  his  life- 
time?" Haseltine  responded,  with  such  a  mocking 
smile,  that  Bob,  whose  temper  was  always  very 
quick  to  take  offence,  and  who  was  deeply  mortified 
by  Arthur's  weakness,  fired  up. 

"  You  make  fun  of  everything  and  everybody, 
Ned  Milman,"  said  he,  angrily.  "You  persuaded 
Arthur  to  smoke,  and  you  might  leave  some  one 
else  to  laugh  at  him  for  it." 

"That's  true  enough,  young  one,"  said  Ned,  who 
was  really  a  very  good-hearted  fellow.  "But,  Bob," 
laying  his  arm  on  the  boy's  shoulder,  "  what  a  reg- 
ular Quicksilver  yow  are,  out  of  the  club  as  well  as 
in  it!  Why  don't  you  leave  Arthur  to  light  Lis 
own  battles?" 

"I'm  sure  I  wish  he  would,"  said  Arthur,  flushing. 

"What!"  exclaimed   Steve,  with  the  provoking 


akthuu's  friend,  steve  lenox. 


189 


sneer  Bob  disliked  so  much.  "Discord  between 
brethren,,  and  under  my  roof,  as  somebody  says? 
I  agree  with  you,  Fred,  it's  time  to  propose  some 
other  diversion  than  smoking." 

"  Some  amusement  adapted  to  the  young,"  drawled 
Gilmore. 

"Come,  come  !"  said  Ned,  patting  Bob's  shoulder. 
w  You  run  our  young  pitcher  rather  hard  among 
you— quite  enough  for  this  time,  I  should  say. 
Suppose  we  have  a  game  of  billiards,  Steve." 

"  All  right,"  said  Steve  ;  and  they  mounted  to  the 
billiard-room.  Mrs.  Lenox's  billiard-room,  like  all 
the  rest  of  her  house,  was  splendidly  fitted  up,  and 
Bob  could  not  suppress  a  momentary  repetition  of 
Arthur's  old  wish,  "that  we  were  rich,  too,"  as  he 
took  up  one  of  the  cues.    He  delighted  in  games. 

"What  shall  we  play  for?"  said  Haseltine,  as  he 
knocked  the  balls  about. 

"Exercise,"  said  Milman,  with  a  laugh,  and  a  little 
nod  of  his  head  in  Bob's  direction. 

"  Nonsense,"  returned  Haseltine,  contemptuously. 
tc  How  much  will  you  agree  to,  little  Stanley?" 

"I  don't  gamble,"  said  Bob,  shortly. 

"O,  pshaw!"  said  Haseltine,  throwing  down  his 


190 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


cue.  "  Come,  Steve,  if  you  are  going  to  ask  babied 
here,  you  must  provide  games  for  their  especial 
edification.    The  rest  of  us  can't  stand  this." 

"You  needn't  speak  for  anybody  but  yourself, 
Haseltine,"  said  Bob,  coolly.  *  Arthur  doesn't  play 
for  money,  either." 

"Steve  does,"  said  Haseltine  with  a  sneer;  "and 
he  and  Arthur  count  for  one." 

The  blood  rushed  into  Bob's  face,  and  Steve  again 
had  to  interfere.  "Come,  come,  Fred,"  said  he, 
"  nobody  said  anything  about  money  this  time. 
Let's  begin  without  any  more  quarrelling."  And 
Haseltine,  with  much  muttering  about  "slow  work" 
and  "  babies,"  took  up  his  cue. 

"I'm  sorry  I  came,  Lenox,"  said  Bob,  looking  up. 
"  They  all  think  I  spoil  everything,  you  see." 

"I  don't,"  said  Ned,  heartily,  while  Steve  mum- 
bled something  polite.  "  I'd  back  you  against  all 
of  them,  little  Stanley,  at  handling  any  kind  of  a 
ball." 

But  Bob  was  heartily  glad  when  morning  came, 
and  he  packed  his  bag,  to  go  back  to  Lakeville  after 
school. 

"O,  dear  me  !  "  he  had  said  to  himself  that  night, 


ARTHUR'S  FRIEND,  STEVE  LENOX. 


191 


as  he  laid  his  head  on  his  pillow,  "how  1  wish  papa 
were  here  !  What  will  become  of  Arthur  here  for 
a  whole  month  with  these  follows?  And  I  can  do 
just  nothing  about  it !  "  Bob  went  to  sleep  with 
something  very  like  a  tear  on  his  cheek.  In  spite, 
however,  of  his  discouraging  reflection  that  he  could 
do  nothing  about  it,  he  did  not  go  home  without 
one  little  "try." 

"Arthur,"  said  he,  when  they  were  alone  together 
for  a  minute  in  the  morning,  "don't  let  these  fellows 
persuade  you  into  doing  things  you  wouldn't  do 
yourself  —  will  you?  Don't  let  them  make  you 
gamble  or  —  or  anything  —  will  you  ?  They're  such 
a  fast  set !  " 

Bob  tried  to  speak,  as  papa  would  have  said,  "in 
the  right  spirit,"  but  Arthur  turned  round  angrily. 

"Bob,"  said  he,  "I  must  say  that  you  are  alto- 
gether too  much  addicted  to  giving  advice,  consid- 
ering that  you  are  younger  than  I.  I  am  quite  able 
to  take  care  of  myself,  thank  you  ;  and  when  I  want 
your  warnings,  I'll  ask  for  them." 

"Don't  be  angry,  Arty,"  said  Bob,  gently,  the 
tears  rushing  into  his  eyes.  "I  hoped  you'd  know 
I  spoke  because  I  thought  of  papa." 


BATTLES   AT  HOME. 


Arthur's  sweet  temper  was  melted.  "I  dare  say 
you  meant  all  right,  Bob,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand 
affectionately  on  his  brother's  shoulder.  "But  you 
must  remember  that  I  think  of  what  papa  would 
wish,  as  well  as  you." 

Bob  departed,  somewhat  comforted  by  these 
words,  if  only  words  did  not  mean  so  little  with 
some  people. 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  193 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS. 

rjlHE  days  went  by,  and  Arthur  was  still  visiting 
-L   Steve  Lenox.    Bob  saw  him  at  school,  and 
occasionally,  too,  he  and  Steve  would  drive  over  to 
Lakeside  Hill,  and  be  received  with  the  greatest 
hospitality  by  Mr.  Osborne,  who  would  perhaps 
declare,  after  they  were  gone,  that  he  delighted  to 
have  these  young  fellows,  Arthur's  friends,  come  to 
the  house,  and  that  he  had  never  seen  Arthur  in  such 
spirits.    Grandpapa  was  very  apt  to  be  delighted 
with  all  Arthur's  doings:  he  was  proud  of  him,  his 
beauty,  his  talents,  and  the  attention  he  received; 
and  it  was  Ho  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  liked  to  see 
his  friends.    But  everybody  did  not  agree  with  Mr. 
Osborne  in  thinking  that  Arthur  had  never  been  in 
better  spirits. 

"Bob,"  said  cousin  Sue,  coming  behind  him,  as  he 
stoud  at  the  window,  with  rather  a  moody  face, 
13 


1D4 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


watching  Arthur  and  his  friends  drive  off,  "  what  is 
the  matter  with  Arthur  ?  " 

Boh  started.  "  Who  told  you  there  was  anything 
the  matter,  cousin  Sue?"  said  he. 

"Nobody  but  my  own  eyes,"  returned  Sue, 
smiling.  *  I  thought  that  Arthur  was  looking  a 
little  worried,  and  out  of  sorts;  and  though  he 
laughed  and  talked  a  good  deal,  it  all  sounded  forced 
to  me,  as  if  he  had  something  on  his  mind.  I  thought 
you  might  have  observed  it,  too." 

It  was  Bob's  turn  to  look  worried  now.  "  O,  do 
you  really  think  so?"  said  he,  anxiously.  "O,  Sue, 
please  don't  say  anything  about  it  to  any  one  else, 
unless  they  speak  of  it  to  you.  I  thought  just  as 
you  did  about  Arthur  this  afternoon,  but  he  hasn't 
said  anything  to  me  ;  and  he  won't  like  it  if  anybody 
says  he  isn't  like  himself." 

"I  won't  speak  of  it  to  any  one,  my  dear,"  said 
Sue,  kindly. 

It  was  not  by  any  means  the  first  time  that  Bob 
had  noticed  a  change  in  Arthur.  He  laughed  and 
talked  a  good  deal,  as  Sue  had  said,  and  always 
yeemed  to  try  to  appear  particularly  merry  when  his 
brother  was  near.    But  Bob  was  not  blinded  to  the 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  195 


fact  that  he  looked  pale  and  harassed,  and  as  if 
something  was  on  his  mind.  He  thought,  too,  that 
Arthur  avoided  him,  as  if  dreading  lest  he  should 
ask  him  questions.  However,  he  kept  his  anxieties 
to  himself,  for  it  might,  "  after  all,"  he  thought,  M  be 
only  fancy  ;  he  disliked  these  fellows  so  much  him- 
self." At  any  rate,  he  would  wait  till  Arthur  should 
speak  to  him.  Bob  waited,  but  Arthur  did  not 
speak* 

At  last  came  a  day  when  his  brother  was  not  at 
school,  nor  was  Steve  there,  though  Bob  watched  the 
door  with  untiring  eyes,  hoping  to  see  him  enter 
among  the  tardy  ones.  He  could  hardly  wait  for  the 
recess  bell,  and  scarcely  had  it  rung,  when  he  was  on 
his  way  to  the  Lenox  house. 

c<  Mr.  Stephen,"  the  servant  said,  "was  not  at  home." 
So  Bob  made  his  way  alone  up  to  the  room  where 
he  knew  Arthur  slept.  He  opened  the  door  softly, 
and  peeped  in.  Arthur  was  there,  sure  enough, 
lying  in  bed  in  an  uneasy  attitude,  one  arm  under  his 
head,  his  face  flushed  and  heated.  The  room,  with 
all  its  handsome  furniture,  luxurious  carpet,  and 
curtains,  had  an  uncomfortable,  disorderly  appear- 
ance, and  gave  Bob  a  homesick  sort  of  feeling.  He 


196 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


remembered  other  times,  when  one  or  another  of 
them  had  been  sick,  and  father  and  mother  had  been 
with  them  to  attend  to  little  wants  and  comforts. 
Poor  Arthur  looked  so  neglected  ! 

Bob  advanced  into  the  room  on  tiptoe. 

"Are  yon  sick,  Arty?"  said  he,  gently. 

Arthur  started,  and  looked  up,  his  face  flushing 
still  more.  "  Are  you  there,  Bob?"  said  he,  putting 
his  hand  to  his  head.  "Did  Steve  tell  you  I  was 
sick?" 

"Not  he,"  said  Bob,  indignantly;  "he  wasn't  at 
school.  Is  this  the  way  your  friends  treat  their 
visitors  when  they're  sick  —  leaving  them  to  take 
care  of  themselves,  while  they  play  truant?" 

"It's  nothing  much,"  said  Arthur,  lowering  his 
eyes;  "only  a  splitting  headache."  He  fell  back  on 
the  pillow  as  he  spoke,  and  put  up  his  hand  to  keep 
out  the  light.  Bob  softly  crossed  the  room,  and 
pulled  down  the  curtain,  then  walked  again  to  the 
bed,  and  took  Arthur's  hand. 

"  How  hot  your  hand  is,  Arthur  !  "  said  he,  startled. 
"I  think  you  must  be  going  to  have  a  fever.  I 
believe  I  shall  go  for  a  doctor." 

"No,  no;  don't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  Arthur, 


A  SIEGE,   IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  197 


"  ONLY  A  SPLITTING  HEADACHE." 


hurriedly,  uncovering  his  face.  "And  mind,  Bob, 
don't  say  anything  at  home  about  my  being  sick. 
It's  nothing.  I  shall  be  all  right  to-morrow,  if  that 
were  all." 

"  But  at  least,  Arthur,  you  must  tell  me  what  is 
the  matter.  How  can  I  be  sure  that  it  is  nothing,  as 
you  say  ?  " 

"  Because  I  tell  you  so,"  said  Arthur.  "It's  only 
—  it's  only  —  you  silly  fellow,"  trying  to  laugh,  and 


19S 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


covering  his  eyes  again  —  "  that  Steve  had  some 
fellows  here  last  night,  and  a  supper,  and  I  suppose 
I  drank  too  much  wine.  It  gave  me  a  headache  ; 
that's  all." 

Bob  stood  speechless,  gazing  at  his  brother. 

"O,  Arthur  !  "  said  he.  That  was  all,  but  the  tone 
went  to  Arthur's  very  heart,  and  made  him  wretched. 
"I  know,"  said  he,  turning  over  uneasily;  "you 
needn't  say  any  more.  And  you  needn't  fancy, 
either,  Bob,  that  it  was  anything  more  than  I  say. 
Of  course  I  did  not  get  intoxicated,  or  anything  of 
that  sort ;  it  was  only  that  I  wasn't  used  to  it." 

It  was  on  Bob's  lips  to  say  that  he  had  told  Arthur 
that  these  fellows,  their  habits,  and  ways  were  not 
suited  to  him  ;  but  he  remembered  in  time  that  there 
is  nothing  more  trying  than  to  have  some  one  say, 
WI  told  you  so,"  and  was  silent. 

"If  that  were  all,"  said  Arthur,  with  a  long,  weary 
sigh,  "I  wouldn't  mind." 

Bob's  heart  gave  an  uncomfortable  sort  of  bound 
as  Arthur  said  this.  But  he  saw,  too,  that  Arthur 
wished  to  tell  him  something,  and  in  his  clumsy,  boy 
fashion  he  tried  to  show  Arthur  that  he  was  ready  to 
be  confided  in  —  smoothing  the  pillows  as  his  mother 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  199 

might  have  done,  and,  finally,  taking  Arthur's  hand 
again. 

"What  do  you  mind,  Arthur?"  said  he,  gently,  at 
last. 

w  You  are  such  a  hard  fellow  to  tell ! "  groaned 
pi  or  Arthur,  turning  his  face  to  the  wall.  "It's  dif- 
ferent with  you  from  me,  Bob ;  things  that  I  might 
get  drawn  into  doings  you  never  would,  because  — 
well,  I  don't  believe  some  things  are  any  temptation 
to  you.  There,  I  believe  I  won't  tell  you,  after  all ! 
But  yet,  I  must  speak  to  somebody  —  I  am  so 
unhappy  !  " 

"Do  tell  me,  Arty!"  whispered  Bob,  choking 
down  a  big  lump  in  his  throat. 

"Well,  this,  then,"  said  Arthur,  nervously.  "I 
owe  Lenox  some  money  —  there!  Don't  speak  — 
I've  not  done.  You  don't  know  what  it  is,  Bob,  to 
have  fellows  ask  you,  night  after  night,  to  do  things, 
and  have  them  think  you  mean  because  you  refuse. 
You  may  talk  about  principles  and  all  that,  but  what 
do  you  suppose  Fred  Haseltine  and  Horace  Gilmore 
care  about  principles?    They  call  it  stinginess!  " 

"And  you  —  "  said  Bob,  looking  up,  with  a  look 
in  his  dark  eyes  that  made  Arthur  drop  his. 


200 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


tr  Played  for  money,  —  yes,"  said  Arthui  ;  "and  as 
I  had  very  little  of  my  own,  I  borrowed  of  Steve. 
Then,  of  course,  I  lost.    Was  that  my  fault?" 

The  little  air  of  bravado  with  which  he  said  this 
did  not  deceive  his  hearer;  indeed,  I  don't  think  Bob 
heard  the  last  words. 

"  O,  Arthur  !  "  said  he,  again.  "  You  !  And  papa  !  " 
He  threw  himself  on  the  bed  by  his  brother,  and 
cried  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  For  a  minute 
Arthur  did  the  same ;  but  he  was  too  miserable  to  be 
silent  long. 

"There,  Bob,"  said  he,  querulously,  "I  knew  you 
would  take  it  just  so.  I  knew  you  wouldn't,  under- 
stand the  least  bit  how  I  could  get  drawn  into  it ! 
Besides,  it  isn't  much,  after  all  —  only  —  " 

"It  isn't  the  much  or  the  little  I  care  about," 
sobbed  Bob;  "it's  the  thing  itself.  O,  Arthur,  I 
never  could  have  believed  that  you,  whom  we  all 
thought  so  much  of — " 

"  Don't,  don't ! "  said  Arthur,  as  if  the  words 
stabbed  him.  "  O,  Bob,  can't  you  do  anything 
better  for  me  than  to  lie  there,  and  cry,  and  tell  me 
that,  when  I  am  so  miserable?" 

Bob  sat  up  in  a  minute.    "I  know  it  isn't  the  right 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  201 


way,"  said  he;  "I'll  try  to  do  better,  now.  HoW 
much  is  it,  Arthur?" 

"It's  only  twenty  dollars,"  said  Arthur,  without 
looking  Bob  in  the  face. 

Bob  gave  a  long  whistle.  "  Twenty  dollars!"  said 
he,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Yes,"  said  Arthur,  going  on  hurriedly,  "  and  that 
wouldn't  be  so  much  if  we  only  had  half  what  other 
boys  do  —  " 

reO,  Arthur!"  said  Bob,  the  tears  rising  to  his 
eyes  again.    "Papa  can't,  you  know." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Arthur,  "he  might  let  grand- 
papa give  us  allowances,  as  he  wants  to.  If  I  go 
with  all  these  rich  fellows,  it  is  so  hard  to  be  pinched 
and  scrimped  as  we  are,  while  they  have  any  quantity 
of  pocket-money  !  " 

Bob  might  have  replied  by  saying  that  this  had 
been  one  of  Mr.  Stanley's  own  arguments  against  the 
suitableness  of  Steve  Lenox's  intimacy  with  Arthur ; 
he  might  have  reminded  his  brother  of  his  own  words 
so  little  while  ago, — "I  can't  bear  to  take  favors 
from  other  people,  and  make  no  return,"  —  but 
Bob's  hasty  tongue  seemed  wonderfully  under  control 
to-day. 


202 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"I  don't  see  that  you  tell  me  anything,"  sighed 
Arthur.  "  I  suppose  there's  no  way  but  to  send 
to  papa." 

"Papa!"  cried  Bob;  "O,  Arthur,  don't  do  that! 
I  don't  mean,  of  course,  don't  tell  him,  by  and  by, 
when  he  is  better ;  but  now,  when  he  is  so  sick  !  and 
I  can't  bear  to  ask  him  for  even  that  money.  Don't, 
Arthur !  " 

w  What  shall  I  do,  then?  "  said  Arthur,  helplessly. 

"I  don't  see,"  said  Bob,  slowly.  "I  don't  see  any 
way  but  grandpapa  all  about  it,  and  ask  him 

to  lend  you  the  raone^  /' 

It  was  Arthur's  turn  to  exclaim  now.  "Tell 
grandpapa?"  said  he,  starting  up.  "No,  Bob,  I 
can't  and  won't  do  that,  if  Steve  is  never  paid  !  I 
should  die  if  grandpapa  knew  I  had  done  such  a 
thing !  I  never  could  make  him  believe  it  of  me,  in 
the  first  place,  and  if  he  did,  I  never  could  hold  up 
in}'  head  again.  Bob,  promise  me  that  you  will 
never  tell  him." 

"/  should  never  tell  him,  of  course,"  said  Bob. 
"I  only  thought  it  would  be  the  best  thing  possible 
for  you  to  do  ;  and  I  think  so  still.  But  if  you  won't, 
there's  an  end  of  it." 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  203 


"Then  you  won't  help  me?"  said  poor  Arthur, 
fulling  back  on  the  pillow. 

Bob  held  out  his  brown  hand.  "Indeed,  I  will," 
said  he.  "I'm  going  to  think  — I  am  thinking  — 
what  is  the  best  thing,  and  1  begin  to  have  an  idea. 
But,  Arthur,  you  will  come  home  now  —  won't  you?" 

"No,  no,"  said  Arthur,  uneasily;  "why  should  1? 
Everybody  would  think  there  was  something  the 
matter,  —  and  Steve  and  I  are  friends,  all  the  same, 
you  know.  Don't  say  anything  more  about  it;  and, 
Bob,  you  must  go  back  to  school ;  recess  is  over  long 
ago.  But  you  will  help  me,  —  won't  you?  — I  have 
been  so  wretched." 

"  Poor  Arty  !  "  said  Bob,  laying  his  hand  on  his 
brother's  shoulder.    "I  will  help  you." 

"And,"  whispered  Arthur,  as  Bob  got  down  from 
the  bed,  "you  will  try  —  won't  you?  —  you  can't 
know  how  hard  it  has  all  been  — you  will  try  to 
think  of  me  as  you  did  before  — won't  you?" 

Poor  Arthur  !  that  was  so  like  him  !  How  others 
thought  of  him  mattered  so  very  much  !  Losing  his 
younger  brother's  respect  seemed  for  more  to  him 
than  the  thought  of  his  own  fault.  His  voice  and 
look,  as  he  said  the  words,  went  to  Bob's  very  heart. 


204 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Don't  speak  about  it,  Arthur,"  said  he,  with  a 
choke  ;  "I  will  do  everything  I  can.    Good  by." 

"Good  by,"  said  Arthur,  squeezing  Bob's  hand; 
"you  are  a  good  fellow." 

Poor,  generous  Bob  !  As  he  rushed  through  the 
streets  back  to  school,  the  tears  hardly  dry  on  his 
cheek,  and  a  great  sob  in  his  throat,  I  think  the 
thing  that  lay  heaviest  on  his  heart  was  the  thought 
that  Arthur  could  not  be  to  him,  in  future,  all  he 
had,  in  his  enthusiastic  fashion,  fancied  him,  ever 
since  he  could  remember.  To  have  our  idols  broken 
is  a  thing  that,  to  some  of  us,  can  never  grow  less 
hard,  however  often  it  may  happen;  and  this  was 
Bob's  first  experience. 

He  had  promised  Arthur  to  consider  what  plan 
would  be  best  to  adopt  to  help  him  out  of  his  dif- 
ficulty ;  and,  as  he  had  told  Arthur,  he  already  had 
an  idea  in  his  head.  Upon  this  idea  he  considered 
so  deeply  during  the  remainder  of  school  time,  that 
he  wTas  preoccupied  even  in  recitation,  and  gave  such 
dreamy  answers,  that  his  teacher  looked  at  him  won- 
deringly.  Bob  Stanley  was  generally  a  wide-awake 
boy. 

Whatever  the  idea  might  be,  he  had  evidently 


A  SIEGE,  IN  WILIC/I  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  205 


come  to  a  decision  about  it  before  the  end  of  school, 
for  he  started  up,  with  the  first  sound  of  the  bell, 
with  a  very  resolute  air.  He  did  not  go  immediate- 
ly, however,  but  seemed  waiting  for  some  one  ;  and 
no  sooner  did  a  tall,  long-legged,  studious-looking 
fellow,  who  sat  in  the  front  row  of  desks,  leave  the 
building,  than  Bob  caught  up  his  cap,  and  ran  after 
him. 

"Digby,"  said  he,  coming  up,  quite  breathless,  "I 
want  to  speak  to  you  a  minute." 

Digby,  who  was  plodding  along,  with  his  hat 
pulled  over  his  brows,  looked  up,  startled,  as  if 
he  had  just  been  waked  out  of  a  brown  study. 

"Q,  it's  you,  little  Stanley,"  said  he;  "well,  what 
is  it?" 

"Didn't  you  say,  a  little  while  ago,"  said  Bob, 
plunging  directly  in  medias  res,  "  when  I  showed 
you  my  box  of  mathematical  instruments,  that  you'd 
tried  to  get  one  like  it,  and  couldn't  find  one?" 

"  Not  one  that  suited  me  as  well,"  said  Digby  ; 
"but  what  of  that?" 

"Because,"  said  Bob,  flushing  crimson,  "if  you 
want  one  still,  I'd  like  to  sell  you  mine." 

"I  thought  you  said  it  was  a  present,"  said  Digby; 
as  if  involuntarily,  with  a  surprised  glance  nt  Bob. 


206 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"So  I  did,"  said  Bob,  still  crimson.  "But  — 
but  —  "  then  getting  over  his  little  hesitation,  and 
bringing  out  the  end  of  the  sentence  quickly,  "no 
matter ;  I  want  the  money  ;  so  I  shan't  mind  that !  " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Digby,  kindly;  "[ 
oughtn't  to  have  said  that  —  it  was  no  business  of 
mine.  I  suppose  you  will  think  this  isn't  either; 
but  I  hope  you've  not  been  getting  into  any  trouble, 
Bob !  " 

"No  — no,"  said  Bob,  raising  his  head  a  little 
proudly,  "nothing  like  what  you  think  of.  But, 
Digby,  please  don't  ask  me  any  questions  about  it. 
I  don't  want  to  answer  them ;  though  you  may  be 
sure  it's  all  right.    Do  you  want  my  box?  " 

"  If  you  would  like  to  sell  it,"  said  Digby.  "  How 
much  did  it  cost?" 

"I  don't  know  exactly,"  said  Bob,  turning  red 
again.  "Something  over  twenty  dollars,  I  know; 
but  you  shall  have  it  for  that,  if  you'll  give  it  to  me. 
I've  used  the  box  very  little  myself." 

"It's  a  bargain,  then,"  said  Digby,  laughing  a  little 
nervously,  for  Bob's  embarrassment  was  contagious; 
"and  you'd  like  the  twenty  dollars  pretty  soon  — 
wouldn't  you?" 


A  SIEGE,   IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  207 


"  Yes,  thank  you,"  said  Bob;  "and,  Digby,  I'm 
very  much  obliged  to  you.  Would  you  mind  if  I 
asked  you  not  to  say  anything  about  —  about  the 
box  being  mine,  unless  you're  asked,  you  know?  I'd 
a  little  rather  not  have  it  talked  about." 

"I'll  be  as  mute  as  the  grave,"  said  Digby,  pleas- 
antly, "and  we'll  conclude  the  bargain  to-morrow." 

"Then  thank  you  again,  and  good  by,"  said  Bob, 
starting  off  at  a  run  for  the  cars,  as  if  afraid  that  his 
resolution  might  falter,  if  he  delayed  longer. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Digby,  as  he  plodded  on  his 
way,  "what  the  little  chap  has  been  up  to.    I  —  " 

He  had  not  time  to  get  any  farther  in  his  soliloquy, 
for  Bob  was  back  at  his  elbow.  "Digby,"  said  he, 
looking  up  with  his  honest  eyes,  "I  ran  back  to  ask 
you  not  to  be  afraid  there  is  anything  underhand 
about  my  selling  my  box.  I'd  tell  you  all  about  it, 
as  far  as  I  am  concerned ;  and  if  I  don't,  it's  not 
because  it  isn't  all  fair  and  square.  You'll  take  my 
word  for  it  —  won't  you  ?  " 

"I'll  trust  you,  Bob,"  said  Digby,  touched  by  the 
boy's  truthful  face  ;  and  Bob  was  off  again  like  a 
shot.  Two  mornings  after,  when  Arthur  opened  his 
desk,  he  found  a  little  note  addressed  to  himself,  in 


208 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


his  brother's  handwriting.  As  his  desk-mates  were 
both  out  of  their  seats,  and  he  could  read  it  unob- 
served, he  opened  the  envelope  at  once.  Two  ten 
dollar  greenbacks,  and  a  pencilled  scrawl  from 
Bob:  — 


Dear  Arty  :  Here's  the  twenty  dollars  for  you, 
all  right,  and  I'm  so  glad  !  Don't  ask  me  any  ques- 
tions about  how  I  got  it;  I'd  rather  you  wouldn't. 
I'm  not  indebted  to  anybody  for  it,  and  you  may  be 
sure  I  did  not  come  by  it  in  any  way  but  a  fair  one. 
It's  all  mine  to  do  as  I  please  with,  and  I  please 
to  give  it  to  you  to  pay  S.  L.  with.  You'll  do  it 
at  once,  I  know,  both  for  your  own  sake  and  mine  ; 
and  I'm  sure  I  need  not  be  afraid  of  your  getting 
into  another  such  scrape.  Only  think  no  more 
about  it,  and  look  like  your  old  self  again,  and  I 
shan't  want  anything  more.  J3OB- 

As  Arthur  finished  reading  the  scrap,  ho  raised 
his  eyes,  and  looked  over  to  his  brother's  desk. 
Bob  was  watching  him.  Arthur  had  very  beautiful, 
expressive  eyes,  and  the  glance  they  gave  Bob  at 
that    moment    rendered   words   unnecessary.  Hob 


A  SIEGE,   IN  WHICH  ARTHUR  SURRENDERS.  209 

bent  over  his  book  again,  with  a  perfect  thrill  of 
happiness  in  his  heart.  If  any  secret  unhappiness 
had  larked  in  his  mind  at  the  thought  of  his  seem- 
ingly thankless  use  of  his  grandfather's  gift,  it  was 
gone  that  minute. 

ff  And  if  grandpapa  ever  finds  it  out,  and  feels 
hurt,'7  said  he  to  himself,  "I  am  sure  I  can  bear  it. 
I  would  not  have  any  secrets  for  myself;  but  I 
think  even  papa  would  say  I  had  done  nothing 
wrong  in  this  !  " 

14 


210 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself  n 


HILE   these   things   had   been  happening, 


t  T  spring  had  been  coming  on.  The  snow 
had  melted  away,  the  blue  lake  had  changed  its 
smooth  ice  for  a  rippled  surface  of  waters,  the  snow- 
drops and  crocuses  had  shot  up  in  the  Lakeside 
Hill  garden,  and  the  brown  buds  on  the  horse-chest- 
nut trees  were  swelling  more  and  more  in  their 
sticky  sheaths.  Spring  had  come,  and  in  the  air 
was  that  peculiarly  glad,  stirring  feeling,  which 
always  seems  to  accompany  the  awakening  grass 
and  flowers,  the  merry  songs  of  the  birds,  and  the 
babbling  of  the  little  brooks,  let  loose  from  their 
icy  prisons.  There  wras  not  one  of  the  inmates  of 
Lakeside  Hill  who  did  not  feel  this  influence,  despite 
the  tact  that  the  longer  and  sunnier  grew  the  days, 
the  nearer  approached  something  which  all  of  them 


them. 


BOBS  BATTLES,  AND  HOW  HE  BORE  HIMSELF.  211 


were  dreading,  however  little  they  might  speak  of 
it.  This  spring  Colonel  Dalton  was  to  go  back  to 
the  war;  his  arm  was  almost  as  well  as  ever  now; 
he  had  long  ago  left  off  his  sling,  and,  as  soon  as 
the  weather  was  warm  enough,  he  w7ould  go  into 
camp  at  Wrighton,  a  neighboring  tow7n,  to  drill  his 
new  regiment.  Everybody  thought  of  this,  from 
grandpapa  down  to  heedless  Geoffrey  ;  and  yet,  in 
spite  of  it,  no  one  would  say  that  they  were  sorry  to 
see  the  earth  waking  up  again  to  fresh  life  under  the 
sunbeams. 

Colonel  Dalton  wras  sitting  one  evening,  as  he 
often  did  now,  with  papers,  books,  and  plans  spread 
before  him.  Lillie  was  hanging  over  his  shoulder, 
but  saying  nothing  about  his  occupation  ;  she  had 
grown  wonderfully  in  powers  of  self-control  this 
winter,  and  whatever  she  might  feel  about  her 
brother's  departure,  she  did  not  trouble  him,  as  she 
w7oulcl  once  have  done,  with  useless  lamentations 
and  fretful  complaints. 

"Bob,"  said  Guy,  without  looking  up,  "will  you 
lend  me  a  pair  of  compasses?" 

Bob  started,  and  flushed  all  over  his  face.  The 
time  was  come  then,  —  not  when  Arthur's  secret 


212 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


must  be  known,  for  Bob  would  have  died  sooner 
than  betray  that,  —  but  when  it  must  be  known 
that  there  was  something  he  could  not  tell. 

" I  would  lend  them  to  you  with  pleasure,  Colonel 
Dalton,"  said  he,  with  an  odd  little  nervous  laugh, 
"if  I  had  them  to  lend." 

Geoffrey  looked  up  wonderingly. 

"Why,  Bob/'  said  he,  innocently,  "have  you  for- 
gotten?   There  are  some  compasses  in  your  box." 

Bob  colored  again  furiously.  "There  are  —  I 
mean  I  have  none,"  said  he. 

Colonel  Dalton,  who  saw,  by  the  boy's  troubled 
look,  that  something  was  the  matter,  would  now 
have  silenced  Geoffrey,  had  it  been  possible.  But 
Geoffrey  was  not  an  easy  person  to  silence. 

"Grandpapa,"  said  he,  appealingly,  to  Mr.  Os- 
borne, "weren't  there  some  compasses  in  the  big 
box  you  gave  Bob  on  Christmas?" 

"Certainly  there  were,"  said  grandpapa,  looking 
up  over  his  gold  spectacles.  "  If  Bob  has  forgotten, 
I  think  he  had  better  go  and  refresh  his  memory 
by  looking  at  his  box,  instead  of  standing  there, 
parleying  about  it,  and  keeping  Colonel  Dalton 
waiting." 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself.  213 


Bob's  lip  trembled. 

"It's  of  no  consequence,"  said  Colonel  Dalton, 
quickly;  "don't  say  any  more  about  it,  please,  Mr. 
Osborne." 

"  But  it  is  of  very  great  consequence,  Guy,"  per- 
sisted grandpapa,  laying  down  his  paper.  "  There's 
something  I  don't  understand  here.  Bob  is  not 
generally  so  disobliging  when  people  ask  favors 
of  him." 

"Colonel  Dalton  should  have  anything  I  had!" 
cried  Bob,  his  voice  trembling  like  his  lip.  "But 
I've  not  got  the  compasses,  grandpapa,  because  I've 
not  got  the  box  any  longer." 

"  Not  got  the  box !  "  repeated  grandpapa,  in 
amazement.    "Where  is  it,  then?" 

"I  sold  it  to  another  fellow,"  said  Bob,  turning 
very  pale. 

"  Sold  it !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Osborne.  "  My  Christ- 
mas present !  " 

"I'm  very  sorry,  sir,"  said  poor  Bob;  "but  I 
wanted  the  money." 

"  The  money  !  "  said  Mr.  Osborne  ;  "  and  am  I 
such  a  terrible  old  fellow,  pray,  that  my  own  grand- 
sons can't  come  to  me  for  money  when  they  want 


214 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


it,  instead  of  selling  my  presents  like  young 
pedlers?" 

"  James,  James  !  "  said  grandmamma,  softly  ;  "  I 
dare  say  Bob  has  some  good  reason." 

Grandpapa  was  too  much  excited  to  do  anything 
just  then  but  jump  up  and  poke  the  fire.  That 
done,  he  turned  round  upon  Bob. 

"Well,  well,"  said  he,  in  a  somewhat  pacified 
tone,  "  let's  hear  the  reason,  Bob,  and  judge 
whether,  as  your  grandmamma  says,  it  is  such  a 
good  one." 

"I'm  very  sorry,  sir,"  said  Bob,  again,  "but  I 
can't  tell  you  what  the  reason  is,  except,  as  I  said 
before,  that  I  wanted  the  money." 

"And  what  sort  of  a  reason  is  that,  pray?"  said 
grandpapa.  "Did  you  want  the  money  for  your- 
self, or  for  w  hom  ?  " 

"Please  don't  ask  me,  grandpapa,"  said  poor  Bob, 
piteously.  "Indeed,  I  can't  tell  you.  Won't  you 
please  trust  me  ?  " 

"How  can  I  trust  you  without  knowing  anything 
about  it?"  said  grandpapa,  now  both  distressed  and 
angry.  "I've  heard  your  father  talk,  time  after 
time,  about  'trusting  Bob — he's  as  open  as  tl.* 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself.  215 


day.'  And  now  how  can  I  trust  you,  when  I  find 
you're  not  as  open  as  the  day?  I  begin  to  be  very 
much  afraid,  sir,  that  your  father  trusted  you  some- 
times when  he  ought  not!" 

ffO,  grandpapa!"  said  Jimmie,  softly. 

Bob  said  not  a  word,  but  rushed  out  of  the  room, 
and  they  heard  him  sobbing  on  the  stairs. 

"I  can't  help  feeling  sure  that  there's  nothing 
wrong  about  Bob,  Mr.  Osborne,"  said  Colonel  Dai- 
ton,  earnestly;  for  the  boy  had  given  him  a  look 
from  his  honest  eyes,  as  he  passed  him,  that  was  as 
good  as  a  declaration  of  his  innocence  of  all  wrong 
doing. 

«  I  wish  I  were  as  sure  of  it,  Guy,"  said  grand- 
papa, still  hotly.  "No,  no,  my  dear,  don't  shake 
your  head  at  me.  I  must  examine  into  this  matter 
more  closely.  I  don't  like  it.  With  all  his  faults, 
Bob  has  always  been  straightforward  before;  and 
I  say  again,  I  don't  like  this."  So  the  evening  was 
,i  very  gloomy  one. 

So  was  the  next  morning,  when  everybody  was 
very  silent ;  and  poor  Bob  swallowed  his  breakfast, 
feeling  as  if  everybody  were  looking  at  him  inquir- 
ingly or  suspiciously,  and  hurried  off  to  school  with 
a  heavy  heart. 


216 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


When  he  came  home,  grandmamma  told  him,  in 
her  gentle,  pleasant  way,  that  grandpapa  wanted  to 
see  him  in  the  library.  "And,  Bob,  dear,"  said  she, 
patting  his  shoulder,  kindly,  "  if  I  were  you,  I'd 
tell  him  all  about  it.  You  know  he's  only  a  little 
angry  at  first,  but  it  will  all  go  off  when  he  finds 
you're  all  right !  " 

Bob  didn't  say  a  word ;  he  only  kissed  the  kindly 
face,  and  marched  off  to  the  library.  When  he 
opened  the  door,  he  saw  Colonel  Dalton  standing 
talking  with  his  grandfather. 

"Come  in.  Bob,"  said  he,  kindly.  "I'm  going 
immediately." 

"  No,  don't  go,  Colonel  Dalton,"  said  Bob, 
stretching  out  his  hand.  "  I  had  as  lief — no,  a 
great  deal  rather  —  you  were  here;  though,  indeed, 
I've  nothing  to  tell." 

"  Now,  Bob,  my  boy,"  said  grandpapa,  beginning 
pleasantly,  and  quite  as  if  he  had  not  heard  what 
Bob  said,  I  "don't  want  to  be  hard  on  you  — I  don't 
think  I  often  am  ;  am  I?  It  isn't  that  I  feel  hurt 
at  your  parting  with  my  present,  so  much  as  grieved 
that  you  should  not  have  come  to  me  in  a  straight- 
forward way,  if  you  had  got  into  trouble,  and  need- 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself.  217 


-bcI  money.  I  never  refuse  you  anything  in  reason ; 
do  I?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Bob,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
carpet. 

"  Good,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  as  if  so  much  was 
grained.  "Then  let  us  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  at 
once.  Did  you  want  the  money  for  yourself,  or 
not?" 

"  Grandpapa,"  said  Bob,  raising  his  eyes,  "  I  really 
can't  tell  you,  and  I  wish  you  would  believe  me 
when  I  say  so."  - 

"Bob,  Bob  !  "  said  Mr.  Osborne,  greatly  troubled, 
"  what  am  I  to  do  about  this  ?  It  isn't  only  that 
I  want  to  inquire  into  your  doings,  as  you  seem 
to  think,  but  I  am  responsible  to  a  certain  extent 
to  your  father  for  the  conduct  of  you  boys,  since 
you  are  under  my  charge,  and  it  is  right  and  just 
that  I  should  know  what  you  are  doing.  Arthur 
tells  me,  the  rest  all  tell  me,  and  I  don't  understand 
this  want  of  openness  on  your  part,  Bob." 

Guy,  who  had  not  said  a  word,  looked  earnestly 
at  Bob  while  his  grandfather  was  speaking,  and 
saw  the  boy  press  his  lips  tight  together  when  Mr. 
Osborue  spoke  of  Arthur,  while  the  angry  blood 


218 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


slowly  mounted  to  his  cheek.  But  his  tone  was 
still  perfectly  calm  and  respectful  as  he  said,  be- 
seechingly, — 

w  Will  you  please,  grandpapa,  not  say  any  more 
about  it,  either  to  me  or  any  one  else  in  the  house?" 

"lean  make  no  promises  of  the  kind,  sir,"  said 
grandpapa,  pushing  back  his  chair,  and  walking 
across  the  room.  "  I  cannot  write  to  your  father 
just  now,  because  he  is  ill,  and  I  haven't  the  heart 
to  pain  him.  Otherwise  I  should  think  it  my  duty 
to  let  him  know  how  grievously  he  is  mistaken  in 
thinking  he  has  in  you  a  truthful,  trustworthy  son. 
I  am  not  likely  to  talk  much  about  what  is  such 
a  serious  matter  to  me ;  but  you  cannot  expect, 
Robert,  that  while  you  persist  in  such  obstinacy, 
either  your  grandmother  or  I  can  treat  you  with 
the  same  confidence  and  affection.  I  should  advise 
you  to  go  off  quietly  by  yourself,  and  think  a  little  ; 
read  your  Bible,  and  see  if  you  can't  come  to  a 
better  frame  of  mind." 

Poor  Bob  !  that  foe  of  his  wTas  too  strong  for  him 
now.  His  hot  temper  made  his  face  burn,  his  heart 
throb,  and  his  words  almost  choke  him,  as  he 
burst  out,  passionately,  — 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself.  21lJ 


"You  can't  understand  —  it's  no  use  !  Bead  my 
Bible  — what  for?  Papa  says  it  isn't  the  Bible  that 
can  help  us  when  we're  wrong;  unless  we  change 
ourselves,  we  might  read  till  doomsday,  and  it 
wouldn't  do  any  good.  But  I've  got  nothing  to 
change;  and  I'm  very  sure  there's  no  use  in  my 
reading  it." 

There  was  some  cause  for  Mr.  Osborne's  displeas- 
ure with  the  words  and  the  disrespectful  tone. 

"Don't  stand  there,  telling  me  what  your  father 
says,"  said  he,  sternly.  w  Whatever  I  may  think 
about  his  opinions,  one  thing  I  know,  and  that  is, 
that  his  system,  whatever  it  may  be,  has  been  a 
complete  failure  with  you!  Go  to  your  room 
directly  !  " 

Bob  gave  one  heart-broken  glance  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  colonel,  and  again  rushed  from  the  room. 
Shut  up  in  his  little  bedroom,  a  hundred  bitter, 
angry  feelings  rushed  through  his  heart.  Arthur 
was  open;  told  everything,  did  he?  O,  how  unjust 
that  he  should  go  about  so  admired  and  respected, 
while  his  brother  was  suffering  for  his  faults  ! 

"  Where  is  the  use,"  said  Bob,  bitterly,  to  himself, 
e?  in  trying  to  be  good,  if  I  am  always  to  be  so  harsh- 


220 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


ly  treated  and  so  misunderstood?    Here  is  all 
good  name  for  honesty  gone  with  giandpapa;  and 
why?    Just  because  I  tried  to  help  my  brother  out. 
of  trouble,  and   foolishly   promised   to   keep  his 
secret !  " 

But  as  he  thought  these  words,  a  voice  seemed 
to  say  to  him,  ?f  And  do  you  try  to  be  good  then, 
Bob,  for  the  sake  of  being  good,  or  for  the  sake 
of  being  thought  so?  If  you  are  honest  and  honor- 
able, can  it  hurt  you  if  people  think  otherwise?" 

It  might  have  been  Mr.  Stanley  himself  who 
spoke.  Bob  rested  his  elbows  on  the  window-sill, 
and  pressed  his  hot  forehead  against  the  cool  glass. 
Just  at  that  moment  a  hand  tapped  on  the  window- 
pane  ;  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  Geoffrey's  round, 
rosy  face,  nodding  and  smiling  at  him.  Geoffrey 
was  standing  on  the  roof  of  the  piazza,  having 
scaled  the  water-spout,  more,  I  suspect,  for  the  sake 
of  the  exploit,  than  to  speak  to  his  brother. 

w  Open  the  window,  Bob,"  said  he  ;  then,  as  Bob 
threw  up  the  sash,  "  I'm  so  sorry  I  got  you  into 
a  scrape  with  grandpapa!  I  didn't  know  a  word 
about  the  box.  But  why  won't  you  tell?  Is  it 
anything  about  Arthur,  or  any  other  boy?" 


bob's  battles,  and  how  he  bore  himself.  Ill 

"You  mustn't  ask  me  any  questions,  Geoffrey,'1 
said  Bob,  shaking  his  head.  "But  don't  be  sorry 
about  what  you  said  ;  it  must  have  come  some  time. 
Only  don't  fancy  that  I've  done  anything  to  bo 
ashamed  of." 

« I  don't,"  said  Geoffrey,  stoutly.  "  I  only  wish  I 
could  talk  to  grandpapa ; "  and  he  doubled  his  plump 
fists  fiercely.  His  sympathy,  oddly  expressed  as  it 
was,  soothed  Bob  ;  it  comforted  him  that  his  little 
brother,  at  least,  should  believe  in  him.  And  he 
saw  Geoffrey's  curly  head  disappear  below  the  roof 
of  the  piazza,  with  a  kindlier  feeling  towards  the 
others,  who  had,  as  it  seemed,  so  cruelly  misunder- 
stood him. 

The  next  visitor  was  Jimmie,  whose  soft  little 
voice  came  to  Bob  through  the  key-hole,  as  he  had 
locked  the  door,  when  he  rushed  up  stairs,  choking 
with  hot,  angry  passion. 

"Bob,  dear,"  said  the  little  voice,  "it  is  only  I. 
You  needn't  open  the  door  if  you  don't  want  to.  I 
have  brought  you  a  letter  from  papa.  It  came  Avhile 
you  were  at  school,  and  the  others  forgot  to  tell  you. 
Please  don't  feel  badly,  Bob." 

And  then  the  letter,  with  its  foreign  stamps,  was 


222 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


pushed  under  the  door.  Bob  hastily  turned  the  key, 
but  Jimmie  was  already  gone. 

The  letter  was  written  from  Germany,  and  con- 
tained a  good  deal  of  bright,  lively  description  of 
what  Mr.  Stanley  was  seeing  and  enjoying;  but  I 
will  only  give  the  part  that  was  meant  particularly 
for  Bob. 

"  When  I  wander  through  these  picturesque  Ger- 
man castles,"  said  the  writer,  "I  often  find  myself 
smiling,  to  think  how  Bob,  if  he  were  here,  would 
tell  himself  stories  about  the  times  when  knights  and 
barons  lived  here,  and  astonished  the  world  with 
their  bold  doings  ;  how  he  would  build  air-castles  as 
high  as  the  castles  of  stone,  and  perhaps  make  him- 
self the  knight  who   lived   in  them.    And  then, 
because  I  cannot  have  him  with  me,  I  find  myself 
weaving  a  little  romance  for  him,  and  thinking  what 
a  brave  knight  he  would  have  made,  after  all,  if  he 
had  only  lived  in  those  times;  howT  earnestly  he 
would  have  gone  into  battle,  and  what  an  ardent 
devotion  he  would  have  brought  to  the  good  cause  ! 
I  really  got  quite  enthusiastic  over  the  picture  of 
Bob  putting  on  his  shield  and  buckler,  and  going 
out,  against  the  oppressors  of  the  poor  and  the 


bob's  battles,  and  now  he  boke  himself.  223 

enemies  of  the  land,  with  such  a  brave  heart.  And 
then  I  laughed  at  myself,  and  waked  up,  and,  as  I 
walked  soberly  home,  I  thought  that  life  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  did  not  look  so  very  every-day  after 
all,  and  that  even  Bob  need  not  fancy  himself  so 
very  far  from  being  a  chivalrous  knight,  if  he  does 
live  in  New  England.    Earnestness  and  enthusiasm 
are  never  thrown  away;  and.  truth  and  openness  are 
a  shield  and  buckler,  which,  with  my  honest  boy, 
will  not,  I  am  sure,  need  so  much  polishing  and 
rubbing  up  as  those  old  knights  were  forced  to  give 
their  armor." 

These  last  words,  coming  just  at  this  time,  touched 
the  sore  spot  in  Bob's  heart.  "  O,  papa,  papa,"  he 
said,  stretching  out  his  arms,  "  why  aren't  you  here, 
to  speak  for  me?"  He  threw  himself  on  the  bed, 
and  burst  into  tears. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door ;  it  was  half  opened, 
and  Colonel  Dal  ton's  voice  said,  *  May  I  come  in  for 
a  moment,  Bob?" 

"  Do  come,"  said  Bob,  sitting  up  ;  "  I  want  to  see 
you,  Colonel  Dalton." 

Guy  came  in,  accordingly,  and  oat  down  ou  the 
foot  of  the  bed. 


224 


BATTLES   AT  HOME. 


"I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  any  questions,  Bob," 
said  he ;  "  I  know  that  sometimes  we  cannot  tell 
everything  for  other  people's  sake,  though  I  do  not 
believe  in  having  secrets  for  one's  self.  But  I  know 
that  that  is  not  your  way ;  so  I  feel  more  sure  that  I 
may  trust  you  now." 

"You  may!  you  may!"  sobbed  Bob,  feeling  as 
if  a  helping  hand  were  stretched  out  to  him.  "  O, 
Colonel  Dalton,"  said  he,  a  moment  afterwards,  "if 
only  grandpapa  would  feel  as  you  do  !  If  only  he 
would  ever  understand  me  ! " 

"My  dear  Bob,"  said  the  colonel,  "don't  think 
you  are  the  only  person  in  the  world  who  is  mis- 
understood. I  don't  suppose  there  ever  was  one 
earnest,  sensitive  soul  on  earth,  who  did  not,  at 
some  time  or  other,  make  that  complaint.  It  is  part 
of  the  discipline  of  life,  Bob,  to  learn  to  £et  alon^ 
without  being  wholly  understood." 

"I  should  be  satisfied,"  said  the  boy,  "if  he  under- 
stood  as  well  as  you  do.  But  is  it  not  hard  to  feel 
that  while  others  —  I  mean,  that  while  I  am  trying 
so  hard  to  do  what  is  right,  I  get  no  credit  even  for 
what  I  deserve  ,;  " 

"Ah,  Bob,"  said  Guy,  smiling,  "if  it  is  the  credit 


BOB'S  BATTLES,   AND  HOW  HE  BOllE  HIMSELF.  225 


you  care  for,  it  can't  be  the  doing  right  you're  think- 
ing of." 

*  Please  don't  think  I  meant  just  that,"  said  Bob, 
earnestly.  "I  can't  explain  exactly  what  I  do  mean, 
for  fear  of  saying  too  much.  But,  Colonel  Dalton, 
grandpapa  misunderstands  me  even  in  little  things. 
I  only  meant,  when  I  said  that  about  the  Bible,  you 
know,  that  if  I  was  wrong,  I  must  change  myself; 
the  Bible  wouldn't  change  me.  Papa  wouldn't  have 
said  there  was  anything  wrong  in  that,  I  am  sure, 
but  grandpapa  thought  I  said  something  wicked." 

"Jam  sure,"  said  Colonel  Dalton,  gently,  "that 
your  father  would  have  found  fault  with  one  thing 
—  not  what  you  said,  perhaps,  but  how  you  said 
it!" 

"  Colonel  Dalton,"  said  the  impulsive  boy,  throw- 
ing himself  on  the  hand  which  rested  near  him,  "if 
they  would  only  talk  as  you  do,  and  be  as  you  are,  I 
should  never  be  angry  !  I  know  I  was  wrong,  and  I 
will  tell  grandpapa  so  to-morrow.  I'm  glad  you 
said  that  to  me,  and  I  love  you  for  it." 

Colonel  Dalton  rose,  and  gently  stroked  Bob's 
hot  cheek.    "  I  am   going  away   now,"    said  he, 
presently,  "to  leave  you  quietly  by  yourself  for  a 
15 


226 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


little.  You  see  you  may  count  on  having  one  friend, 
when  you  feel  inclined  to  believe  the  world  is  your 
enemy." 

And  this  friend,  you  may  be  sure,  was  one  Bob 
valued. 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


227 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 

AS  spring  had  advanced  more  and  more,  the 
grass  grown  green,  and  the  flowers  sprung 
up  in  the  garden-beds,  it  appeared  as  if  there  were 
some  mystery  in  the  Osborne  household.  Jack 
Osborne  was  often  at  Lakeside  Hill,  generally  shut 
up  with  Colonel  Dalton,  and  Fanny,  when  she  came 
too,  often  looked  too  sober  for  her  merry  self.  As 
for  Jack,  he  seemed  so  grave,  and  wholly  "grown 
up,"  that  the  children  felt  shrewd  Prissy  had  been 
ri°kt  when  she  said  "Mr.  Jack  was  settling  down 
a  bit." 

At  last  Geoffrey's  curiosity  quite  overcame  his 
discretion,  and  one  day  when  cousin  Jack  had  been 
closeted,  for  an  unusual  time,  with  Colonel  Dalton, 
he  attacked  him  with  a  battery  of  questions  as  soon 
as  he  showed  himself  in  the  parlor. 

"Cousin  Jack,  I  want  to  know,  please,  what's 


228 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


going  on  _what  are  you  going  to  do?  We  all 
know  there's  a  secret,  and  that  is  why  you  are  so 
sober  and  poky  nowadays.  Won't  you  please  tell 
me  what  it  is?" 

"Geoffrey,"  said  cousin  Jack,  "I've  got  a  new 
verse  for  your  Nonsense  Book ;  "  and  thereupon  he 
gravely  recited  the  following  doggerel :  

There  was  a  young  man  of  the  city 

Who  would  go  to  the  war  —  more's  the  pity. 

When  he  looked  at  his  gun, 

"  I  hope  I  shan't  run  !  " 

Said  this  valiant  young  man  from  the  city. 

When  to  battle  he  got, 

Some  stray,  cursory  shot 

Carried  off  his  leg  the  first  day. 

"  Not  much  matter,  I  guess ; 

So  much  danger  the  less," 

Said  he;  coolly,  "  of  running  away !  " 

Geoffrey  laughed. 

ff  O,  Jack,"  said  Fanny,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
"bow  can  you  say  such  horrid  things,  and  laugh, 
when  we  feel  so  badly  about  your  going  away." 

"O,  arc  you  going  to  the  war,  really?  "  cried  Bob. 

"I  am,"  said  Jack,  with  a  glance  at  Guy,  "if 
Colonel  Dalton  will  take  me  for  one  of  his  second 
lieutenants." 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


229 


And  so  the  secret  was  out,  and  Fanny  told,  be- 
tween smiles  and  tears,  that  Jack  had  been  studying 
tactics  for  a  year,  and  had  begged  papa  so  hard  to 
let  him  go  to  the  war,  that  he  had  yielded  at  last, 
and  it  was  all  settled. 

By  the  time  the  white  tents  dotted  the  green  fields 
of  Wrighton,  Lakeside  Hill  itself  had  become  a  sort 
of  domestic  camp.  Nothing  was  heard  except  talk 
of  soldiers  and  the  war ;  every  afternoon  some  mem- 
bers of  the  household  drove  over  to  the  camp  for  the 
dress  parade,  and  Guy  and  Jack  were  the  all-absorb- 
ing thought  in  every  one's  mind,  while  under  the 
faces  that  tried  so  hard  to  look  brave  and  cheerful 
there  sometimes  lurked  sad,  heavy  hearts. 

Fanny  Osborne  was  very  often  at  Lakeside  Hill, 
now  that  her  brother  was  in  camp,  and  she  and  Lillie 
were  much  drawn  together  in  their  common  feeling 
for  their  brothers.  As  the  little  maidens  sat  to- 
gether, makinsr  needle-cases,  slippers,  all  sorts  of 
comforts  or  keepsakes  for  the  soldiers,  Fanny  often 
looked  at  Lillie,  and  wondered  if  she  were  indeed  the 
same  peevish,  spoiled  child  she  had  seen  so  little 
while  ago  as  last  Thanksgiving.  Talks  with  Guy, 
Sue's  influence,  and  a  loving  home  atmosphere  had 


230 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


done  wonders  for  Lillie,  and  Fanny  secretly  wished 
she  could  wear  as  brave  a  front  as  her  little  compan- 
ion, when  she  thought  of  the  approaching  departure 
of  that  regiment  in  which  both  were  so  interested. 

But  one  morning,  when  the  stay  at  camp  was  num- 
bered only  by  days,  cousin  Sue,  coming  suddenly  on 
the  little  seamstresses,  found  tell-tale  tears  on  the 
cheeks  of  both. 

"What,"  said  she,  in  her  sweet,  playful  tone, 
putting  her  hands  on  Fanny's  shoulders,  "I  thought 
we  agreed  to  have  only  smiles  at  Lakeside  Hill  camp. 
The  women  of  the  Eevolution,  you  know,  never- 
thought  that  tears  mended  matters." 

"Ah,  cousin  Sue,"  said  Lillie,  quickly,  dashing 
away  her  tears  as  she  spoke,  "it  isn't  to  you  what  it 
is  to  Fanny  and  me  ;  you  can't  know  how  hard  it  is 
to  have  one's  brother  go  to  the  war !  " 

ffI  can  guess,  my  dear,"  said  Sue,  gently,  and 
quietly  left  the  room,  without  a  word  more.  Lillie 
had  spoken  too  impulsively  to  notice  the  effect  of  her 
words,  but  Bob,  who  was  in  the  room,  raised  his 
eyes  to  Sue's  face.  He  was  startled  to  see  how 
pale  and  sad  she  looked,  in  spite  of  the  sweet  smile 
on  her  lip;  and  a  little  thought  darted  into  his  mind, 
which  be  wouldn't  have  told  to  any  one. 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


231 


Bob  had  grown  graver  and  more  thoughtful  during 
theso  last  weeks;  he  went  out  to  base  ball  iu  Ins  old 
wav,  when  his  frequent  expeditions  to  the  camp  gave 
mra  time,  but  he  was  not  quite  his  old,  merry  self, 
even  with  a  bat  in  his  hand,  and  Jimmie  heard  no 
more  nonsense  about  balloon  trips  to  China  Bob 
*M  as  affectionate  and  loving  as  he  was  proud,  and 
the  difference  grandpapa  showed  in  his  treatment 
of  Arthur  and  of  himself  grieved  him  scarcely  less 
than  the  unjust  distrust  of  his  honesty  wounded 

him.  .  ii 

Arthur  had  been  at  home  for  some  time  now,  to  all 
appearance  as  merry  and  light-hearted  as  ever ;  he 
said  not  a  word  of  what  had  passed  between  them, 
and  if  Bob  ever  caught  himself  looking  at  htt  brother, 
Wondering  how  he  could  help  divining  his  duress 
and  aiding  him  by  manfully  confessing  his  own  fault 
he  reproached  himself  for  it  the  next  minute.  If 
Arthur  did  not  notice  the  difference  in  Bob,  other 
people  did;  though  the  elder  ones  thought  it  better 
Lay  nothing.   But  Lillie,  the  perverse  little  maiden, 
took  up  the  cudgels  for  the  -  rough,  glum  boy. 

"Grandpapa,"  said  she,  perching  herself  on  the 
arm  of  his  chair  (she  had  called  him  grandpapa  for  a 


232 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


long  time  now),  "grandpapa,  why  do  you  treat 
poor  Bob  so?" 

Lillie  was  a  privileged  person,  for  Mr.  Osborne 
delighted  in  her  pretty,  coaxing  little  ways,  and 
even  in  her  sauciness  sometimes.  80  he  only  said, 
good-naturedly,  "'Poor  Bob/'  What's  that  for, 
I'd  like  to  know,  Miss  Lillie?  I  saw  'poor  Bob' 
going  off  with  his  base-ball  bat  just  now,  as  if  not 
very  much  was  the  matter." 

"I  know—  just  now,"  said  Lillie.  "But,  grand- 
papa, he  looks  very  unhappy  sometimes,  and  you 
are  so  hard  and  cold  with  him  !  Has  he  done  any- 
thing wrong?    What  has  he  done?" 

"That's  just  what  I  don't  know,  and  want  to  find 
out,"  said  grandpapa,  knitting  his  brows. 

"I'm  sure,"  said  Lillie,  with  great  spirit,  "it  isn't 
anything  that  deserves  being  treated  as  if  everybody 
hated  him." 

"Tut,  tut!"  said  Mr.  Osborne.  "I'm  the  best 
judge  about  that,  little  lady.  You  may  be  sure 
Master  Bob  is  treated  as  well  as  he  deserves." 

And  Lillie  was  wise  enough  to  know  now  that 
she  had  said  enough. 

However,  she  only  changed  her  point  of  attack, 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


233 


and  next  assailed  Arthur.  "Do  you  know,  Arthur," 
said  she,  when  they  happened  to  be  alone  together, 
"what  Bob's  secret  is?  why  he  looks  so  unhappy, 
I  mean." 

*No;  does  he?"  said  Arthur,  changing  color. 
"  I  didn't  notice  that  he  was  different  from  usual." 

" Dear  me  !"  said  Lillie,  with  a  little  impatient 
toss  of  her  head.  "  What  is  the  good  of  having 
eyes,  Arthur,  if  you  can't  see  with  them?  Every- 
body else  knows  there's  something  the  matter  with 
Bob." 

"Did  he  tell  you  so?"  asked  Arthur,  looking 
alarmed.    "Did  he  say  anything  about  a  secret?" 

Lillie  shook  her  head,  and  ran  off,  feeling  for  once 
quite  vexed  with  Arthur.  As  for  that  young  gentle- 
man, I  suppose  he  would  have  been  very  indignant 
had  any  one  called  him  selfish  ;  he  really  had  not 
noticed  any  change  in  Bob.  But  some  people, 
without  knowing  it,  have  both  eyes  and  thoughts  S6 
filled  w  ith  themselves,  that  they  are  blind  to  others^ 
faces,  and  think  there  can  be  no  secrets  or  sorrows 
save  those  which  are  their  own  peculiar  affair. 

I  will  not  describe  all  that  went  on  at  the  camp 
at  Wrighton  during   the   weeks  Colonel  Dalton's 


234 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


regiment  spent  there.  There  is  always  an  air  t4 
gayety  and  brilliancy  about  every  camp,  and  Guy, 
as  colonel  of  the  regiment,  was  often  obliged  to  take 
the  lead  in  festivities  he  really  had  not  much  heart 
/or.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  Lillie  might  have  had  her 
head  turned,  if  she  had  chosen,  so  much  was  made 
of  her  as  the  colonel's  little  sister.  The  four  boys 
were  as  well  known  at  Wrighton  as  if  they  had 
been  officers  themselves ;  and  how  Bob's  heart 
burned  within  him  as  he  looked  with  a  sort  of  per- 
sonal pride  on  Guy's  men  and  Guy's  belongings ! 
How  he  longed  to  be  in  Jack  Osborne's  place  !  As 
for  Geoffrey,  he  was  so  won  over  by  the  gay  pagean- 
try of  the  dress  parade,  that  he  began  to  think  seri- 
ously of  changing  his  future  air-castle  career  from 
the  navy  to  the  army. 

I  must  remember  that  good-by  is  to  be  a  prohib- 
ited word  in  this  story,  or  I  shall  find  myself,  before 
I  know  it,  writing  about  parting  words  and  fore- 
wells.  Without  saying  too  much  about  it,  then, 
it  was  within  a  day  or  two  of  the  departure  of  the 
—  Regiment,  when  something  astonishing  took  place 
at  Lakeside  Hill. 

Geoffrey,  feeling  very  low-spirited  and  out  of 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WATl. 


235 


sorts,  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  tone  of  the 
family,  but  being  very  unwilling  to  be  seen  with  red 
eyes,  or  symptoms  of  unmanly  emotion,  had,  on  this 
particular  afternoon,  betaken  himself  to  a  retreat 
beneath  the  parlor  sofa,  where  he  could  indulge  his 
grief  unseen,  or  console  himself  with  Flossy,  grand- 
mamma's soft,  white,  curly  spaniel.  I  think,  as  the 
shadows  came  on,  and  it  began  to  grow  dark  under 
the  sofa,  that  Geoffrey  must  have  cried  himself  to 
sleep,  for  he  came  to  himself  suddenly,  with  a 
drowsy  sense  that  somebody  was  talking  above  him. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  say  all  this  to  you,"  said  one 
voice.  ?'I  had  even  resolved  that  I  would  not  let 
myself  speak  of  it  to  you  —  but  what  has  become 
of  my  resolution?  It  seems  so  selfish,  Sue,  to  try 
to  tie  up  your  future,  just  at  this  last  moment,  to 
such  an  uncertainty  as  a  soldier's  fate  must  be  ! " 

"I  do  not  complain  of  the  hardship,"  said  the 
other  voice,  as  if  the  speaker  had  looked  up  with 
the  brightest  and  sweetest  of  smiles  in  saying  it. 

"So  selfish,"  went  on  the  first  speaker,  as  if  he 
had  not  heard  the  little  exclamation,  "  to  bring  on 
your  head  all  the  anxiety  for  my  future  which  must 
come  to  you  now  that  our  lives  are  henceforth  to 


236 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


be  bound  up  together!  I  am  almost  ready  to  ask 
your  forgiveness,  Sue,  for  telling  you  that  I  loved 
you." 

"You  needn't,"  said  Sue,  in  a  very  low,  happy 

tone.    "You  foolish  Guy,  do  you  suppose  V 

"Well,  what?" 

"That  I  shouldn't  have  been  just  as  anxious  for 
you  if— if  you  hadn't  told  me  so?" 

There  was  a  little  pause,  and  then  Guy  said, — 

"I  am  half  tempted,  Sue,  to  say  that  I  think,  for 
the  present,  since  I  have  said  what  I  couldn't  help 
saying,  it  had  better  be  kept  a  secret  — known  to 
no  one  but  ourselves." 

Seemingly  from  under  the  speaker  came  an  ex- 
clamation, in  a  voice  wherein  laughing  and  crying 
were  singularly  mixed  up. 

"You  can't— you  can't  keep  it  a  secret  — I  know 
it  too  !  O,  cousin  Sue,  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I've 
heard  all  you've  been  saying  !  " 

The  colonel  and  Sue  had  both  sprung  up  at  the 
first  word;  and  now,  from  under  the  sofa,  appeared 
the  head  of  Geoffrey,  his  red  eyes  and  tear-stained 
cheeks  plainly  betraying  lm  recent  want  of  manli- 
ness, while   a   very    contradictory,  roguish  smilo 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


237 


GEOFFREY  WAKES  UP. 


played  in  and  out  of  his  dimples.  It  was  a  funny 
picture,  as  he  looked  up  at  the  colonel  with  an 
air  half  contrite,  half  mischievous. 

MThy,  how's  this?"  said  the  colonel.  "What 
were  you  doing  there,  Geoffrey?" 

"I  was  asleep,9'  said  Geoffrey,  looking  rather 
abashed;  "and  then  I  waked  up,  and  heard  all  you 
said.     And,  O,  Colonel  Dalton ! "  his  excitement 


238 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


suddenly  overcoming  his  slight  timidity,  as  he 
crawled  out  from  his  hiding-place,  "is  it  really  true, 
and  are  you  going  to  be  engaged  to  cousin  Sue? 
O,  won't  you  please  come  right  off,  and  tell  grand- 
papa and  the  rest?  I  know  I  shall  let  it  out  right 
off  if  you  don't." 

Guy  looked  at  Sue,  who  was  still  blushing  very 
much ;  but  Geoffrey's  funny  agitation  was  too  droll 
for  either  displeasure  or  embarrassment  to  resist. 
All  three  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  and  this  very 
serious  matter  had  a  very  comical  ending. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Guy,  "since  this  young  eaves- 
dropper will  not  even  promise  to  keep  our  secret, 
let  us  go  at  once  and  confess  it  ourselves." 

And  accordingly  the  occupants  of  the  library 
were  startled  by  the  entrance  of  Colonel  Dalton, 
looking  very  proud  and  happy,  cousin  Sue  looking 
very  pretty,  and  covered  with  blushes,  and  Geof- 
frey bringing  up  the  rear,  his  chubby  face  wreathed 
with  roguish  smiles. 

"Mr.  Osborne,"  said  Guy,  "you  owe  it  to  this 
naughty  boy,  who  has  been  playing  the  part  of  a 
very  unwelcome  third,  that  you  hear  now  what  was 
meant  to  be  a  very  great  secret  for  some  time  to 
come." 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


23ft 


Lillie  did  not  hear  much  more  than  that,  lor, 
with  a  perfect  intuition  of  what  was  coming,  and  a 
strange  uncertainty  as  to  the  nature  of  her  own 
feelings  in  consequence,  she  fled  to  the  entry  for 
a  moment's  self-examination.  There  she  ran  against 
Bob,  whose  face  literally  shone  with  delight. 
"Well,  Lillie!"  said  he,  joyfully. 
"  Well,"  said  Lillie,  hardly  knowing  whether  she 
spoke  in  jest  or  earnest,  "did  I  not  tell  you,  Bob, 
that  she  would  get  my  brother  away  from  me?" 

"Nonsense!"  said  Bob;  "you  can't  humbug  me, 
Lillie !  I  know  you  are  feeling,  just  as  I  am,  that 
it  seems  too  good  to  be  true  that  just  when  Colonel 
Dalton  goes  away,  he  should  leave  us  something 
that  really  belongs  to  him,  as  cousin  Sue  does  now. 
Why,  I  shall  care  twice  as  much  for  her  as  I  did 
before  — for  herself  and  for  him,  too,  you  know." 

"Bob,  you  are  a  dear,  good  boy!"  said  Lillie; 
and,  thereupon,  she  suddenly  discovered  that,  strange 
as  it  may  seem  after  her  feelings  a  few  minutes 
before,  she  was  delighted  too.  So  when  Guy  in- 
terrupted the  joyful  congratulations  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Osborne,  to  say,  a  little  anxiously,  «  But  where  is 
Lillie?"  a  little  voice  replied  at  his  elbow,  "Here 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


she  is,  Guitlie  —  so  glad  and  so  happy,  sister 
Sue  ! " 

Sue  blushed  more  than  ever  at  that  name,  and 
Colonel  Dalton  looked  as  if  only  that  had  been 
wanted  to  make  his  happiness  quite  complete. 

On  the  last  afternoon,  after  dress  parade,  the 
officers  of  the  regiment  had  a  collation  for  their 
friends,  and  of  course  Guy,  as  the  colonel  of  the 
regiment,  was  expected  to  be  foremost  in  the  hos- 
pitalities. No  words  can  tell  how  both  he  and  the 
family  at  Lakeside  Hill  dreaded  it.  How  hard 
to  go  about  smiling,  when  you  feel  so  very  much 
more  like  crying!  But,  since  it  must  be  done, 
everybody  resolved  to  go  through  it  bravely,  and 
all  the  good  bys  were  said,  all  the  parting  tears 
shed,  before  they  went  to  the  camp,  and  in  that 
little  hour  of  the  morning  when  Guy  and  Jack 
rode  over  to  Lakeville.  So  I  can  very  easily  leave 
them  out  of  my  story,  and  you  can  imagine  them 
f>r  yourselves.  It  was  a  very  miserable  merry- 
making to  the  Osbornes  and  Stanleys,  and  to  poor 
little  Lillie — nay,  I  am  afraid,  to  every  one  who 
had  a  brother,  a  son,  or  a  dear  friend  among  those 
soldiers;  but  it  was  over  at  last,  and  the  carriages* 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


241 


were  driving  home.  There  was  no  longer  need  for 
swallowing  down  tears  or  forcing  smiles. 

How  dreary  and  empty  the  pleasant  house  seemed 
when  they  got  back  to  it  —  the  windows  standing 
open  to  let  in  the  warm,  sunny  air,  the  flowers 
blooming  so  brightly  in  the  garden,  and  the  sunset 
clouds  flushing  red,  purple,  and  golden,  while  but 
two  miles  away  were  a  thousand  men  going  per- 
haps to  death,  and  in  this  bright  world  lurked  the 
dark  monster,  War ! 

Bob  had  been  very  wretched  all  the  afternoon ; 
and  now  he  sat  out  on  the  steps  long  after  uncle 
John  and  aunt  Kitty  had  driven  away  with  Fanny 
and  Charley,  feeling,  half  unconsciously,  that  sorrow 
seemed  just  so  much  the  harder  because  the  sun 
shone  and  the  world  looked  so  love! v.  He  got 
up,  and  went  into  the  house,  wandered  aimlessly 
round  the  darkening  hall,  and  finally  sat  down  on 
the  broad  oak  staircase.  He  could  hear  Lillie 
sobbing  overhead,  and  Sue's  voice,  brave  and  cheer- 
ful even  now,  trying  to  comfort  her.  Jimrsie  and 
Geoffrey  were  with  grandmamma,  and  there  was 
no  one  at  hand  to  say  a  word  to  Bob.  He  rested 
his  head  on  his  folded  arms,  hiding  his  face  on  the 
16 


242 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


stair.  Up  the  staircase  came  Arthur,  almost  stum- 
bling over  him  in  the  growing  twilight. 

"O,  is  it  you?    What  are  you  doing  here,  Bob?" 

"Nothing,"  said  poor  Bob,  in  the  most  wretched 
of  tones. 

Now  Arthur  could  not  bear  to  see  people  melan- 
choly, and  the  mournful  atmosphere  of  the  house 
had  already  given  him  a  nervous,  annoyed  feeling. 
So  his  tone  was  sharper  than  he  meant  it  to  be, 
as  he  said,  — 

R What's  the  use  of  being  so  doleful,  Bob? 
You're  enough  to  give  a  fellow  the  blues  lately. 
I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  you." 

ff  I  think  one  miofht  be  excused  for  being  a 
little  doleful  to-night,"  said  Bob,  with  his  face 
still  hidden  on  the  stair. 

"I  don't  know  —  it  doesn't  help  any  one,  that 
I  can  see.  But,  Bob,  I've  been  meaning  to  speak 
to  you  about  your  way  of  going  on  lately.  You 
go  about  with  such  a  long  face,  that  anybody  can 
see  you  have  some  secret,  and  it  isn't  two  days 
since  Lillie  Dalton  asked  me  what  was  the  matter 
with  you.  If  you  don't  take  care,  people  will  begin 
to  suspect  my  affair,  and  though  you  think  you 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


243 


did  me  such  a  favor  in  getting  me  that  money, 
I  can  tell  you  I  shan't  thank  you  for  it  if  you 
let  out  my  secret  now  !  "  And  so  Arthur  passed 
on,  and  went  up  stairs. 

He  had  not  meant  to  be  cruel,  but  his  unkind 
words  had  been  like  sharp  knives  to  poor  Bob. 
It  had  made  him  wretched  before,  to  think  that 
he  must  lose  his  one  friend  just  when  he  needed 
him  so  much;  but  to  have  Arthur,  for  whose  sake 
he  had  gone  through  all  that  he  had,  blame  him 
for  betraying  what  he  was  suffering  for  keeping 
to  himself,  —  no,  he  could  not  bear  that! 

"  And  I  won't  bear  it !  "  said  he,  suddenly  spring- 
ing up;  "I  "can't  stay  here  to  be  treated  as  I 
am  !  I  will  go  to  Guy.  I  can't  let  him  go  with- 
out me,  and  I  will  tell  him  so  !  " 

Bob  was  in  one  of  his  excited,  passionate  moods, 
and  almost  before  he  knew  where  he  was,  he  was 
rushing  along  the  dark  road  towards  the  camp. 
Where  was  he  going?  He  hardly  stopped  to  think; 
his  only  idea  was  to  get  to  Guy,  tell  him  that 
he  couldn't  stay  there  any  longer  now  he  had  gone, 
beg  him  to  take  him  with  him  as  a  drummer-boy, 
anything,  no  matter  what,  so  long  as  he  could  be 


244 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


with  the  one  person  who  understood  and  cared  for 
him  !    Such  were  Bob's  impulsive,  excited  thoughts. 

The  distance  to  Wrighton  was  scarcely  two  miles, 
and  Bob  could  never  have  told  how  he  got  over  the 
ground.  It  seemed  hardly  a  minute  between  the 
time  when  he  had  sprung  up  from  the  stair  and 
the  time  when  he  found  himself  standing  outside 
the  colonel's  tent,  looking  wistfully  in.  Guy  was 
sitting  quite  alone,  looking  as  if  he  had  dropped 
down  there  for  a  moment's  rest  and  peace,  after  the 
exertions  of  the  weary  day,  and  on  his  face,  almost 
stern  in  its  gravity,  was  the  first  shade  of  sadness 
Bob  had  seen  there  since  he  talked  of  going  back 
to  the  Avar.  One  could  see,  at  a  glance,  that  it 
all  rose  before  the  soldier  —  the  picture  of  what  he 
had  left  here  —  his  home,  Sue,  his  loved  ones  —  all. 

It  was  like  a  dream;  the  boy  could  not  have  told 
how  anything  happened  that  night,  but  he  found 
himself  all  at  once  in  Colonel  Daltoirs  arms,  where 
he  had  thrown  himself,  sobbing  out,  "Take  me  with 
you  !    O,  Guy,  dear  Guy,  don't  leave  me  behind  !  " 

Guy  was  startled,  — it  had  all  been  so  sudden,  — 
but  his  voice  was  so  calm  that  it  seemed  to  quiet 
Bob's  fluttering  nerves,  as  he  said,  "My  boy,  how 
-id  you   <ret  here  ?  " 


"Take  me  with  you  !    O  Guy,  dear  Guy,  don't  leave  me  be- 
hind !  "  —  Page  244. 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  ANT)  WAR. 


215 


"I  came!"  said  Bob.  "Indeed,  I  don't  knoll 
myself —  I  felt  as  if  I  must  — O,  Guy!  only  say 
you  will  let  me  go  with  you  !  " 

"How  could  you  go,  Bob?"  said  Guy,  still  very 
quietly. 

"Why,  I  could  be  a  drummer-boy,"  said  Bob. 
« I  could  be  anything,  no  matter  what.  Anything 
would  be  better  than  staying  here,  where  nobody 
wants  me,  or  cares  for  me,  and  everybody  blames 
me  for  things  I've  never  done  ! " 

Colonel  Dalton  sat  still  for  a  minufe,  holding  Bob 
closely  pressed  to  him.  Presently  he  said,  "Bob, 
you  don't  want  to  make  this  going  off  harder  for 
me  than  it  need  be  —  do  you?" 

"Is  it  likely,"  said  Bob,  "that  I  should  want  to 
make  anything  hard  to  you?" 

"Then  listen  quietly,  while  I  talk  to  you.  Sup- 
pose, Bob,  that  when  we  get  into  the  very  thick 
of  the  battle, —  my  men  and  I, —we  should  sud- 
denly exclaim  that  we  couldn't  stand  it,  and  so 
run  away.  We  should  be  brave  soldiers  —  shouldn't 
we?" 

"Very,"  said  Bob,  half  laughing.  "But,  Guy, 
don't  say  such  things  of  me,  for  I  know  that  is  what 


246 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


you  mean.  It  is  not  running  away  from  any  battle 
—  it  seems  easier  to  me  to  go  into  the  very  thickest 
of  the  real  fight,  be  wounded,  lose  my  leg  or  my 
arm  even,  and  feel  that  I  am  in  the  right  place, 
doiug  something,  than  just  stay  quietly  here.  ■  How 
is  that  running  away?" 

"A  great  many  of  us  could  say  that  anything 
seemed  easier  to  us  than  just  the  thing  we  were  set 
to  do,"  said  Colonel  Dalton.  "Our  battles  must  be 
just  where  we  are  put  to  fight  them,  and  just  that 
place,  Bob,  no  other,  is  the  'right  place'  for  us. 
You  think  it  would  be  doing  something  —  some- 
thing brave  —  to  go  off  in  this  way — do  you? 
Now  I  call  it  turning  one's  back  on  what  one  is 
called  to  suffer,  and  saying,  weakly,  f  I  can't 
bear  it !  ' " 

"Don't  say  so  to  me,"  said  Bob,  drearily.  "It 
is  all  so  hard  for  me!" 

"Not  only  for  you,  Bob,"  said  Guy,  suddenly 
losing  his  calmness,  and  speaking  hurriedly  and 
vehemently.  "Is  it  not  hard  for  all  of  us  to  go  off 
and  do  our  duty  bravely,  when  we  leave  so  much 
behind  us?  Is  it  not  hard  for  me,  do  you  think, 
to  leave  all  I  have  left?    Is  it  not  hard  even  for  me 


ABOUT  BOTH  LOVE  AND  WAR. 


247 


to  send  you  away  from  me  now,  and  to  have  another 
parting  over  again?" 

"And  I  have  made  it  harder,  then,"  said  Bob, 
sadly.    wO,  Guy,  I  did  not  mean  to." 

"I  know,  my  boy;  and  you  will  not  any  longer, 
I  am  sure.  What  could  you  do,  dear  Bob,  or  what 
could  I  do  with  you,  if  you  were  to  go  with  me,  as 
you  wish?  Ah,  my  boy,  war  has  enough  dangers 
and  responsibilities  of  its  own,  without  our  making 
new  ones." 

"Forgive  me,"  said  Bob.  "Don't  say  any  more; 
indeed  I  will  go  back." 

"  There's  my  dear,  brave  boy  !  "  said  the  colonel ; 
and  putting  his  arms  round  Bob,  he  held  him  for 
a  moment  closely  pressed  to  his  breast. 

"  Now  go,"  he  whispered.  "  I  have  staid  here,  by 
myself,  long  enough.  I  shall  not  forget  you  and 
your  battles  while  I  am  fighting  my  own.  Stay  a 
minute.  Would  it  help  you  if  I  gave  you  some- 
thing of  mine  to  remind  you  that  you  haven't  lost 
your  friend,  even  when  things  seem  darkest?" 

«  O  !  — "  said  Bob.  He  did  not  finish  the  sen- 
tence. 

"Then  take  this  little  seal,"  said  Guy,  unfasten- 


248 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


ing  it  from  his  chain.  "I  have  worn  it  ever  sin.e 
I  was  a  boy,  and  if  you  ever  feel  very  lonely  and 
sad,  look  at  the  motto,  and  be  sure  I  am  thinking 
of  you.  And,  Bob,"  lowering  his  voice,  "if  you 
should  ever  hear  that  anything  had  happened  to 
me,  I  should  like  you  to  give  the  seal  to  Sue,  and 
tell  her  to  think  that  those  are  the  words  I  would 
have  said  to  her  myself.  Be  all  you  can,  clear  boy, 
to  her  and  to  Lillie.  I  can't  say  any  more.  God 
bless  you  ! " 

"And  you!"  sobbed  Bob. 

The  next  minute  he  was  running  again  over  the 
same  road  he  had  seemed  to  fly  over  half  an  hour 
before.  The  moon  struggled  through  the  thick 
clouds,  and  lighted  up  the  way.  He  looked  at  his 
precious  seal,  which  he  had  held  till  now  tightly 
pressed  in  his  hand.  The  moonbeams  shone  full 
upon  it :  it  was  only  a  very  plain  little  gold  seal, 
in  the  form  of  an  anchor,  and  on  it  were  the  words 
"  iSursum  corda/"* 


*  lAft  up  your  hearts  — look  above. 


ROCKEDGE. 


—  Geoffrey's  adventure. 


249 


CHAPTER  XIV, 


ROCKEDGE.  —  GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE. 


OCKEDGE,  where  the  Osbornes  always  spent 
1  twTo  or  three  of  the  hottest  months  of  the 


year,  was  a  little  sea-side  place,  as  yet  uninvaded  by 
fashionable  people,  hotels,  or  shoddy  gentility.  It 
was  a  quiet  little  nook,  with  just  neighbors  enough 
to  redeem .  it  from  loneliness,  where  people  could 
go  about  all  day  if  they  chose,  in  boating-suits  or 
flannel  shirts ;  could  go  out  to  drive  in  family  carry- 
alls, without  having  dust  from  a  dozen  barouches 
whirled  in  their  eyes ;  where,  in  short,  they  could 
go  to  enjoy  the  sea  in  their  own  fashion,  —  bathing, 
fishing,  sailing,  sitting  on  the  rocks,  get  thoroughly 
rested,  if  they  needed  rest  and  change,  plenty  of 
sea-air  and  sea-sicle  appetite,  if  that  was  what  they 
went  for.  Grandpapa  had  a  house  there,  and  Mr 
Stanley  always  spent  his  short  summer  vacation 
there,  declaring  there  never  was  a  place  like  Rock- 


250 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


edge  for  curing  a  hard- worked  winter's  fatigue ;  so 
the',  to  the  boys,  it  was  a  second  home.  It  was  a 
plain,  unpretending  house,  big  enough  to  hold  them 
all,  with  nothing  remarkable  about  it  except  the 
splendid  sea  view,  —  it  stood  high,  and  one  could 
hear  and  see  the  waves  rolling  in  all  day  long,  — 
and  its  wide  breezy  piazza,  strewn  with  straw  chairs 
for  sitters,  hung  with  hammocks  for  lazy  swingers; 
just  the  place,  in  short,  for  a  healthy,  happy 
home-life. 

From  one  side  of  the  piazza  could  be  seen  the 
white  sandy  beach,  where  the  boys  rowed  off  in 
their  dories,  and  the  bathing-house  from  which  the 
young  people  emerged  daily,  in  flannel  bathiug- 
suits,  a  merry  crowd.  From  another  side  (for  the 
house  stood,  as  it  were,  on  a  promontory,  jutting 
out  into  the  sea)  could  be  seen  the  high  rock  cliffs, 
full  of  clefts,  and  shady  seats,  and  lookouts  into  the 
white-capped  ocean.  Among  these  rocks,  the  little 
Stanleys  had  spent  many  of  their  happiest  hours  at 
Kockcdgc;  for  in  their  recesses  was  one  of  their 
favorite  haunts.  They  were  the  perfection  of  rocks, 
full  of  unexpected  nooks  and  crannies,  washed  by 
the  waves  into  fantastic  forms.    You  went  down 


ROCKEDGE.  —  GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE.  251 


the  steep  bank  by  a  crumbling  path,  little  stones 
rolling  down  behind  you,  and  there,  just  this  side 
of  the  high-water  mark,  you  came  suddenly  on  a 
little  cave,  in  a  lofty,  beetling  crag.  At  its  mouth 
was  a  smooth  strip  of  snowy  sand,  on  which  the 
waves  broke  gently,  after  spending  their  strength 
on  the  sea-weedy  rocks  beyond.  The  floor  of  the 
cave  was  of  this  same  sparkling  sand,  and  in  its  soft 
sides  was  more  than  one  natural  arm-chair  in  the 
rock.  Just  outside,  a  little  fresh- water  spring,  clear 
and  cold  as  ice,  gurgled  out  from  the  stone  wall, 
while,  as  an  offset  to  that,  in  the  middle  of  the 
cave's  sandy  floor  was  a  salt  pool,  —  a  natural 
rock-bottomed  aquarium, — from  which  a  tiny  rill 
ran  down  to  the  sea. 

Such  were  the  natural  advantages  of  the  cave ; 
and  as  it  had  been,  for  years,  the  favorite  haunt 
of  the  children  when  at  Rockedge,  you  may  be 
sure  it  had  not  wanted  for  improvements  at  their 
hands.  They  had  constructed,  at  one  side,  a  couch 
of  stones,  with  cushions  stuffed  with  sea-weed*  so 
as  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  aquatic  character  of  the 
place.  With  infinite  labor,  Arthur  and  Bob  had 
adorned  the  walls   with   shells  —  shells   from  far 


252 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


countries,  which  had  somehow  found  their  way  into 
the  family,  and  been  put  to  this  use,  or  shells  which 
they  had  themselves  picked  up  on  the  beach;  it 
didn't  matter:    from  great  pink-lined  music-shells 
to  common  oysters,   there   they   all  were,  firmly 
plastered  against  the  wall.    The  aquarium  had  been 
stocked,  from  time  to  time,  with  all  sorts  of  ma- 
rine treasures,  —  sea-anemones,  crabs,  star-fish,  sea- 
weeds, and  mosses,  —  so  that  it  was  quite  a  little 
lesson  in  natural  history  to  the  younger  members 
of  the  family.    A  little  way  off,  among  the  rocks, 
the  boys  had  built  a  stone  fireplace,  and  on  very 
festive  occasions  they  built  a  fire  there,  and  had  a 
picnic  party,  making  a  point  of  boiling  no  other 
water  for  cooking  purposes  than  that  from  the  spring. 
I  suppose,  in  the  winter  storms,  the  great  waves 
washed  into  this  cave  sometimes,  and  that  was  the 
secret  of  the  little  aquarium  ;  but  that  was  in  winter, 
when  the  sea-weed  cushions  had  been  carried  up  to 
the  house,  and  the  boys  were  far  away  from  Rock- 
edgc.    In  summer  no  more  delieiously-cool  retreat 
could  be  imagined,  and  its  very  name,  cut  by  the 
boys  in  the  rock,  over  tlie  mouth  of  the  cave,  was 
an  invitation,  in  the  burning  heat  of  an  August  sun 
—  "  Cave  Conines*:' 


ROCKEDGE. 


—  Geoffrey's  adventure.  253 


What  merry  times  they  had  had  there,  fitting  up 
their  rocky  cavern  into  a  palace  of  perfection,  play- 
ing Robinson  Crusoe  and  his  man  Friday,  or  pas- 
sages  from  any  of  the  numerous  cave  stories  they 
had  read  in  wonderful  juveniles  !  What  long,  quiet 
mornings  tfiey  had  passed  there,  when  cousin  Sue, 
or  even  grandmamma  and  Mrs.  Stanley,  sat  there 
with  their  work,  reading  aloud  and  telling  stories, 
or  Mr.  Stanley  lay  on  the  sofa,  and  preached  his 
little  sermons  to  the  children,  getting  his  text  out 
of  the  rock-pool  at  his  feet.  But  if  I  begin,  I  might 
go  on  forever  telling  the  delights  of  the  place,  and 
not  exhausting  them. 

In  "Cave  Coolness,"  then,  one  sultry  July  morn- 
ing, cousin  Sue  was  sitting  with  Lillie,  Jimmie,  and 
Geoffrey.  The  Osbornes  had  come  down  to  Rock- 
edge  in  time  to  escape  the  noise  of  the  ff  Glorious 
Fourth,"  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boston,  and  this 
summer,  like  all  summers  here,  was  a  happy  one. 
True,  there  was  the  anxiety  still  —  the  great  anxiety 
of  the  war,  I  mean:  there  were  the  papers  to  be 
daily  watched  for,  and  read;  the  precious  war- 
letters  Sue  and  Lillie  walked  to  the  post-office,  so 
untiringly,  to  get.    But  if  there  was  anxiety,  there 


254 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


was  none  of  the  restless,  fretful  complaining  thd 
is  so  wearing  to  other  people,  and  so  destructive 
of  general  peace  and  comfort.    Sue  Osborne  was  a 
sunbeam.    If  she  felt  unhappy  at  heart,  she  always 
had  a  smile,  or  a  cheerful  word,  for  other  people. 
Cheerfulness  was  a  duty  with  her ;  she  never  moped, 
or  sat  languid  and  listless.    Work  she  must  have, 
and  as  Jimmie  and  Geoffrey  had  vacation,  so  that 
she  no  longer  had  their  lessons  for  occupation,  she 
used  to  go,  twice  a  week,  to  Boston,  to  work  at 
the  Sanitary  Rooms,  coming  back  the  fresher  and 
brighter  for  it.     She  would  tell  Lillie  what  they 
did  there  for  the  soldiers,  what  cutting  and  packing 
went  on,  and  how  happy  it  made  her  to  see  just 
what  the  soldiers  were  to  have,  till  one  day  Lillie 
came  to  her  wistfully,  just  as  she  was  starting,  and 
said,  shyly,  — 

"Couldn't  I  go,  too,  sister  Sue?"  (She  always 
called  her  so  now.)  "I  think  I  could  do  some- 
thing, if  you  showed  me  how." 

"Indeed  you  could,  Lillie,"  said  Sue,  warmly. 
"Should  you  really  like  it,  dear?" 

"I  should  feci  as  if  I  were  doing  something  for 
Guy,"  whispered  Lillie,  squeezing  Sue's  band  light, 


ROCKEDGE.  — 


Geoffrey's  adventure.  255 


to  keep  back  her  own  tears.  And  so  the  two  went 
together. 

But  besides  her  happiness  in  her  work,  Sue  had, 
apparently,  plenty  of  bright  interest  to  give  to  her 
little  cousins'  pleasures,  and  as  she  sits  there  in  the 
Cave,  this  morning,  in  her  pretty  pink  morning 
dress,  her  cheeks  are  as  rosy,  and  her  smile  as 
sunny,  as  if  there  w7ere  no  wrar  in  the  world.  Geof- 
frey, whose  especial  delight  is  in  all  matters  pertain- 
ing to  the  sea,  and  who  is,  accordingly,  the  chief 
maintainer  of  the  aquarium,  has  been  teasing  her 
for  a  story  about  one  of  the  denizens  of  the  pool ; 
for  Sue  has  a  pretty  little  way  of  telling  impromptu 
fanciful  stories  about  every-day  matters. 

"And  so,"  said  she,  seemingly  just  at  the  end  of 
her  story,  as  we  enter  "Cave  Coolness,"  "King 
Barnacle  decided  to  return  to  his  rock,  and  his  safe 
little  shell,  which,  though  some  people  might  call 
it  a  prison,  was  nevertheless  a  protection.  He 
had  found  the  great  kingdom  of  the  sea  a  very  un- 
comfortable place  for  barnacles  out  of  their  sphere 
and  their  shells,  and  henceforth  he  resolved  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  peep  he  got  of  the  wide  w7orld, 
when  the  high  tide  rushed  up  and  leaped  on  the 


256  BATTLES  AT  HOME. 

rocks,  and  all  the  barnacles  opened  their  shells,  to 
get  the  refreshing  spray,  after  their  long  baking  i„ 
the  sun..  So  there  you  may  find  him  to  this  day, 
on  that  great  rock  farthest  out,  in  the  colony  of 
his  brother  kings,  for  every  barnacle,  you  know,  h 
monarch  of  his  own  shell." 

"Cousin  Sue's  story,"  said  Arthur,  appearing  at 
the  mouth  of  the  cave,  "seems  to  be  founded  ou 
the  old  idea  of,  'It  is  better  to  be  king  in  a  coal- 
hole  than  page  in  a  palace.' " 

"Now,  I  think,"  said  Bob,  "that  cousin  Sue  means 
to  console  people  who  can't  be  just  what  they  want, 
by  saying  that  they'd  better  be  successful  in  small 
things,  rather  than  very  poor  imitations  of  hi* 
ones." 

"  Now,  it  is  too  bad  of  you  big  boys  to  listen  to 
me,"  said  Sue,  laughing  and  blushing,  "and  then 
pick  my  poor  little  story  to  pieces.  It  was  only 
meant  for  my  pupils." 

"And  you  didn't  hear  the  first  part,  Arthur," 
said  Geoffrey.  "It  was  so  nice,  when,  at  the  first 
sound  of  the  tide  coming  back,  all  the  shell-fish 
lifted  up  their  shells,  and  little  King  Barnacle 
slipped   out   on   the   fish's   back   so   cleverly!  1 


ROCK  EDGE.   GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE.  257 

should  like  to  be  out  on  that  rock  some  time  just 
when  the  tide  turned." 

,  "  Well,  come  in  to  lunch  now,"  said  Arthur;  *  we 
came  to  call  you." 

Steve  Lenox  had  been  staying  at  Rookedge  for  the 
last  few  days,  the  little  boys  considering  his  presence 
a  "great  bore,"  and  Bob  secretly  agreeing  with  them. 
Arthur  seemed  very  happy  in  his  friend's  society, 
though,  at  times,  a  little  constrained.  Mr.  Osborne 
had  not  said  much  about  the  guest ;  but,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  his  first  enthusiasm  for  Steve  was  cool- 
ing down  a  little  on  nearer  acquaintance. 

After  lunch,  Geoffrey  sat  out  on  one  side  of  the 
piazza,  whittling  away  at  a  thole-pin,  and  wishing 
very  much  that  he  could  get  rid  of  his  shell  like  King 
Barnacle,  suddenly  shoot  up  into  a  man,  and  go  off 
to  see  some  of  the  wonderful  countries  he  sometimes 
dreamed  about.  Round  the  corner  of  the  house, 
Arthur  and  Steve  were  lazily  swinging  in  the  ham- 
mocks, and  chatting  together. 

"By  the  way,  Arty,"  said  Steve,  suddenly,  "how 
did  old  Digby  get  hold  of  that  box  of  Bob's?  or, 
rather,  what  made  Bob  sell  it?  It  seemed  such  a 
mean  thing  to  do  !  " 

17 


258 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Bob's  box  —  his  mathematical  instruments,  do 
you  mean?"  exclaimed  Arthur.  "  I  didn't  know  any- 
thing about  it.  How  did  you  know  the  box  was 
Bob's?" 

"By  the  evidence  of  eyesight,"  said  Steve.  "Be- 
sides, I  said  so  to  Digby,  and  he  couldn't  deny  it. 
So  Master  Bob  has  his  little  scrapes  on  the  sly  — 
does  he?  I  always  mistrust  these  very  honorable 
fellows." 

"  You  needn't  mistrust  Bob,"  said  Arthur,  with 
some  warmth;  "I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  he 
wanted  the  money  for,  unless  —  " 

He  stopped  short,  suddenly  remembering  the 
twenty  dollars  Bob  had  given  him.  But  his  expres- 
sion quite  finished  the  sentence  for  Steve. 

"Unless  for  you,  eh?"  said  he,  with  a  laugh. 
"How  could  I  be  so  slow  in  putting  two  and  two 
together  !  Well,  well,  if  Bob  likes  to  be  fool  enough 
1°  pay  your  debts  for  you,  I  suppose  I  needn't  com- 
plain. Do  you  think  he  had  enough  with  that  first 
one,  or  would  he  like  to  undertake  the  other  little 
obligation?  " 

"Hush,  Steve,  do!"  said  Arthur,  hurriedly. 
"Somebody  might  hear." 


HOCKEDGE.   


Geoffrey's  ADVENTURE. 


259 


And  Steve,  with  a  light  laugh,  changed  the  sub- 
ject ;  not,  however,  before  the  little  whittler  round 
the  corner  of  the  house  had  entirely  understood  the 
drift  of  the  conversation. 


"Where  is  Geoffrey?"  said  grandmamma,  about 
half  an  hour  after  dinner. 

Where,  indeed  !  When  children,  and  particularly 
boys,  are  very  quiet,  they  are  generally  acknowl- 
edged to  be  in  some  mischief ;  but  this  was  a  step 
beyond  mischief. 

Geoffrey,  as  perhaps  you  have  already  discovered, 
was  of  an  inquiring  mind  :  he  liked  to  have  a  finger 
in  every  pie,  an  ear  in  every  conversation,  an  eye  in 
everything  that  could  be  seen.  He  was  daring  and 
venturesome,  and  a  spice  of  adventure  was  an  irre- 
sistible temptation  to  him.  For  another  thing,  he 
always  wished  to  see  for  himself  everything  he  heard 
described,  and  cousin  Sue's  story  about  King  Barna- 
cle had  inspired  in  him  the  desire  to  see  the  barnacles 
all  lift  their  shells,  as  high  tide  came  in.  Without 
stopping  to  consider  the  decidedly  fabulous  nature  of 
Sue's  story,  he  took  it  for  granted  that,  as  she  had 
located  the  colony  on  the  farthest  rock  in  sight  from 


260 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


the  cave,  there  it  was  to  be  found,  and  there  he  must 
bend  his  steps  forthwith.  He  had,  indeed,  openly 
expressed  this  wish,  but  at  a  time  when  everybody 
was  absorbed  in  talking,  and  had  not  heard  him  ; 
and  with  an  intuitive  idea  that  obstacles  might  be 
raised,  he  did  not  communicate  his  intentions  even 
to  his  twin. 

At  low  water,  just  before  the  tide  turned,  he  left 
the  house  alone,  and  quietly  stole  down  the  bank  to 
the  little  strip  of  sand  in  front  of  "Cave  Coolness." 
At  low  water,  all  the  rocks  over  which  the  waves 
dashed,  white  and  foaming,  when  the  tide  was  at  the 
full,  lay  bare,  fringed  with  sea-weed,  and  very  slip- 
pery to  foot  passengers.  But  Geoffrey  climbed  over 
them,  stopping,  now  and  then,  to  pick  up  a  tempting 
shell,  caught  in  the  sea-weed,  or  jumping  over  the 
little  salt  pools  with  great  relish  of  his  adventure. 

Some  distance  out,  the  last  of  the  reef  of  rocks 
binding  the  coast  just  here  was  a  very  large  rock, 
called  by  the  boys  "Big  Outsider."  It  was  their 
boundary  for  low-water  mark;  for,  never  quite  cov- 
ered by  the  waves,  it  towered  up  at  ebb-tide  like  a 
fortress,  the  side  towards  the  land  shaggy  with 
brown  sea-weed,  while  the  waves  broke  low  down 


KOCKEDGE.  —  GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE. 


against  the  foot  on  the  side  that  fronted  the  sea. 
The  elder  boys  had  once  been  there  to  fish,  but  it 
was  generally  regarded  as  a  dangerous  place,  for  the 
waves  came  up  so  quickly,  after  the  tide  once  turned, 
that  return  by  the  way  he  had  come  was  very  soon  cut 
off  for  the  unwary  adventurer.  So  the  youngsters 
were  warned  off,  and  had  never  been  there  as  yet. 

This  afternoon,  however,  Master  Geoffrey  chose  to 
go,  saying  easily  to  himself,  "Of  course  I  can  get 
back  quick  enough,  if  I  only  keep  my  wits  about  me." 

Jumping  from  rock  to  rock,  and  now  and  again 
getting  a  wet  foot  from  a  slip  on  the  treacherous  sea- 
weed, went  heedless  Geoffrey,  whistling  and  singing 
to  himself.  The  big  rock  reached,  the  first  question 
was  to  scale  it,  and  this,  by  dint  of  using  the  sea- 
weed as  a  pulley,  and  his  knees  as  grappling-irons, 
Geoffrey  at  last  effected.  Here  he  was,  on  top  of  the 
landmark  he  had  so  often  surveyed  with  longing 
eyes,  and  as  soon  as  its  exact  dimensions  had  been 
ascertained  by  walking  round  it  and  counting  the 
*teps,  the  barnacles  must  be  sought  for.  Yes,  there 
they  were,  a  white  line,  firmly  nailed  to  the  rock  ; 
but,  alas  !  how  far  above  the  waves  that  washed  the 
foot  of  "Big  Outsider!  " 


262 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"There's  nothing  to  do,  then,  but  wait  patiently 
till  the  water  comes  up  to  them,"  said  Geoffrey  to 
himself;  and  this  thought  quite  banishing  from  his 
mind  the  recollection  that. the  water  would  come  up 
on  the  other  side  too,  he  lay  flat  down  on  his  face, 
his  head  over  the  edge,  that  he  might  observe  the 
progress  of  the  waves,  and  be  sure  of  witnessing  the 
first  movement  of  the  barnacles. 

A  long  time  passed,  and  still  Geoffrey  lay  there, 
for  he  had  a  goodly  share  of  persistency,  and  was 
not  fond  of  being  beaten  in  his  undertakings.  The 
waves  had  not  reached  the  colony  of  barnacles  yet, 
but  they  had  been  slowly  and  surely  creeping  up  and 
round  the  rocks,  while,  had  the  little  watcher  but 
turned  his  head,  he  would  have  noted,  with  some 
alarm,  the  gradual  disappearance  of  some  of  the 
stones  he  had  climbed  over  a  little  while  before.  He 
did  not  look  round,  however,  till  a  flock  of  sea- 
gulls, screaming  above  his  head,  made  him  raise  his 
eyes,  to  follow  them  in  their  course,  as  they  swooped 
towards  the  water.  What!  how  was  this?  As  he 
turned,  he  looked  out  upon  an  expanse  of  waters, 
seemingly  all  around  him.  Frightened,  he  sprang 
up  from  his  recumbent  posture,  and  ran  to  the  edge 


ROCKEDGE.  GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE. 


of  the  rock.  Sure  enough,  while  he  had  been  lying 
there,  the  breakers  had  rolled  in,  till  they  had  quite 
(Hied  up  the  space  between  him  and  the  shore! 

How  deep  was  it?  His  heart  beating  like  a  sledge- 
hammer, Geoffrey  slipped  down  the  edge  of  the  rock, 
and,  clinging  to  the  sea-weed,  examined  the  water 
beneath.  Far  down  into  its  green  depths  he  looked, 
and  saw  that  it  was  already  above  his  head;  for 
Geoffrey,  alas!  was  no  giant. 

w  I  might  as  well  stay  here,  then,"  said  he,  stoutly, 
half  aloud  ;  and  with  one  of  his  childhood's  habits, 
when  he  wished  to  show  he  did  not  care,  he  whistled 
loudly.  That  whistling,  however,  was  a  very  sur- 
face affair,  and  soon  died  away.  In  his  heart,  the 
poor  little  fellow  was  shaking  with  terror.  What, 
drown  here,  in  the  very  sight  of  his  home!  "O,  I 
shan't!"  said  he,  springing  up.  "I  can't  believe 
it !  " 

He  anxiously  examined  the  rock,  to  see  if  there 
were  no  marks  by  which  he  could  tell  how  far  the 
water  came.  The  sea-weed  stopped  quite  a  little  way 
from  the  top  of  the  rock,  and  at  first  that  gave  him  a 
thrill  of  hope.  But  presently  he  remembered  how 
hMi  the  waves  dashed  over  the  rocks  in  shore  :  what 


264 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


must  they  be  here?  His  heart  died  within  him,  Avith 
a  sickening  feeling;  how  could  he  stand,  with  his 
puny  strength,  against  the  great  breakers?  He 
should  be  washed  off,  perhaps  dashed  to  pieces 
against  the  rocks.  The  thought  made  the  poor  little 
fellow  tremble  all  over ;  but  the  next  minute  he  ex- 
claimed, half  aloud,  — for  that  seemed  to  make  him 
feel  less  alone, — 

"Any  way,  I  shan't  drown  this  minute,  and  per- 
haps something  may  turn  up." 

Geoffrey,  with  all  his  childishness  in  some  things, 
had  what  we  Yankees  emphatically  call  "true  grit," 
and  never  gave  in.  He  set  his  teeth  hard,  and  said, 
half  defiantly,  — 

"Well,  I  won't  lose  the  barnacles,  any  way,  the 
water  won't  reach  me  till  long  after  it  covers  them  !  " 
But  as  he  sat  there,  pretending  to  be  looking  at  the 
barnacles,  he  was  really  keeping  an  anxious  eye  on 
the  water,  hoping  against  hope  for  some  boat  to 
come  and  take  him  off. 

"They  must  miss  me  at  home,"  said  he,  "so  I 
won't  give  up.  O,  wouldn't  papa  call  me  manly 
now,  I  wonder?  " 

A  sob  choked  him  as  he  said  this,  but  he  swallowed 
down  the  rising  tears,  halt  angrily. 


ROCKEDGE.  — GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE. 


Meantime,  at  home,  growing  anxiety  was  felt  at 
his  non-appearance.  "  Where  is  Geoffrey  ?  "  one  and 
another  had  asked,  till  the  usual  feeling,  that  he 
would  turn  up,  and  prove  to  have  only  been  in  some 
mischief,  died  away,  and  all  the  members  of  the 
family  gathered  together,  with  a  growing  conviction 
that  something  had  happened. 

"If  only  we  had  some  clew!"  said  grandpapa, 
pacing  the  floor. 

"The  boats,  perhaps!"  said  Bob,  and  hurried 
down  to  the  shore.  Alas  !  both  boats  were  on  the 
beach.  The  horses  were  thought  of,  but  they  were 
in  the  stable,  — and  darkness  was  coming  on. 

Suddenly  Jimmie,  who  had  been  running  from  one 
place  to  another,  the  foremost  among  the  seekers, 
exclaimed,  lifting  his  little  pale  anxious  face,  — 

"  O,  cousin  Sue  1  he  has  gone  to  the  rock,  to  see 
the  barnacles.  I  heard  him  say  he  wished  he  could 
be  there  when  the  tide  turned." 

"What  rock,  child?"  said  Mr.  Osborne. 
"  Why,  '  Big  Outsider,'  there,"  said  Jimmie.    "  O, 
if  he  should  have  got  caught  there  !  " 

"It  couldn't  be  possible,"  said  cousin  Sue,  turning 
pale  at  the  bare  suggestion,  while  Arthur,  hurrying 


266 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


to  the  piazza  with  the  telescope,  declared  he  thought 
he  could  make  out  a  little  black  speck  on  the  rock, 
through  the  growing  twilight. 

"  But  there  is  water  between,"  added  he,  faltering. 

"  VVe  can  take  the  boat,"  said  Bob,  boldly,  while 
grandmamma  wrung  her  hands,  "and  we  can  take  old 
Smith  with  us,  grandpapa;  he  knows  the  rocks." 

There  was  no  time  for  talking.  Mr.  Osborne  and 
the  two  boys  hurried  to  the  beach,  where  old  Smith, 
the  fisherman,  and  the  boat  were  soon  ready.  Poor 
little  Jimmie  had  grown  quite  pale  and  faint  when 
the  speck  had  been  seen,  and,  when  Mr.  Osborne 
had  said,  "Only  you  two  elder  ones  must  go,  Arthur 
—  I  can't  have  Jimmie  going,"  had  exclaimed,  in  a 
low  voice,  "O,  I  couldn't!" 

Every  one  was  carried  out  of  himself  in  the  anxiety 
and  suspense ;  even  Steve  Lenox  walked  the  beach 
with  Mr.  Osborne,  as  the  boys  pushed  off  in  the  boat 
with  old  Smith. 

For  a  few  minutes  nobody  spoke  —  each  one's 
heart  was  in  his  mouth. 

"The  waves  will  be  high  to-night,  I  reckon,"  said 
the  fisherman  ;  and  nobody  could  answer. 

It  was  quite  a  long  pull  before  they  got  in  sight  of 
the  rock,  but  at  last  they  rounded  the  point. 


ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S  ADVENTURE.  2G7 


"Look,  Smith,"  said  Bob,  low  and  hurriedly; 
"  don't  you  see  something  there  in  the  twilight?" 

"  How  high  the  breakers  are  ! "  said  Arthur,  his 
voice  trembling. 

The  fisherman  gave  a  backward  glance  over  his 
shoulder,  as  he  pulled  the  oars  vigorously. 

"  Something,  sure  enough,  Master  Bob,"  said  he, 
laconically.    "  How  long  it  will  be  there  I  don't  say  !  " 

After  that  nobody  spoke  a  word,  but  every  one 
listened  to  the  beating  of  his  own  heart.  As  they 
neared  the  rock,  Arthur  shut  his  eyes, — he  could 
seem  to  see  nothing  but  the  white  foam,  —  but  Bob 
raised  his  head. 

"We're  here,  Geoffrey  !  "  cried  he.  "Hold  out 
a  minute  longer  !  " 

"  /  am  holding /"  said  a  voice,  which  sounded  as 
if  it  came  through  the  speaker's  shut  teeth.  Then  I 
think  everybody  shut  their  eyes,  except,  perhaps,  old 
Smith.  There  was  a  thump  on  the  rock,  a  dash  of 
spray  in  their  faces,  a  wild  roaring  of  waters,  then 
long,  strong,  vigorous  pulls  at  the  oars.  When 
Arthur  and  Bob  opened  their  eyes,  Geoffrey  was 
sitting  in  the  boat ! 

"Well,  Master  Geoffrey *  said  the  fisherman,  "I 


268 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


reckon  you  come  as  near  the  jumping-off  place  to- 
night as  you  care  to  ! " 

"I  saw  the  barnacles,  though,"  said  Geoffrey, 
stoutly  ;  "and  that's  what  I  went  for  !  "  And  there- 
upon his  fortitude,  real  and  pretended,  gave  way, 
and  he  burst  into  a  loud  fit  of  crying. 

Even  Steve  Lenox  turned  away  his  head  when  the 
boat  grounded  on  the  beach,  and  Jimmie,  who  had 
flown  down  to  the  shore  at  the  first  tidings  that  they 
were  coming,  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  his 
twin. 

That  evening,  when  Geoffrey,  put  to  bed,  —  grand- 
mamma's infallible  cure  or  preventive  for  colds  and 
all  physical  ills,  —  was  sitting,  magnificent,  propped 
up  by  pillows,  wrapped  up  in  shawls,  and  regaling 
himself  with  hot,  spiced  wine,  expressly  prepared  for 
him  by  Prissy,  under  grandmamma's  directions, 
"  Jimmie,"  said  he  to  his  twin,  who  sat,  still  pale  from 
his  fright,  on  the  bed  beside  him,  "Jimmie,  I  want  to 
speak  to  Arthur  alone,  and  I  don't  want  even  you  to 
hear  what  I  say." 

Jimmie  went,  without  a  word,  to  call  his  brother. 

"Arthur,"  said  Geoffrey,  as  Arthur  entered,  "I've 
got   something   very   important   to   say   to  you." 


ROCKEDGE.  —  GEOFFREYS  ADVENTURE. 


26U 


(Geoffrey's  late  adventure  had,  he  felt,  given  him 
dignity.)  "You're  sure  you  won't  be  angry  with 
me,  now  ?  " 

«I  couldn't  to-night,  Jeff!"  said  Arthur,  in  his 

sweetest  tone. 

The  hair-breadth  escape  of  the  little  scapegrace 
seemed  to  have  endeared  him,  twofold,  to  every  one, 
to-night.    Perhaps  Geoffrey  Hew  this. 

«  Well,  then,"  said  he,  looking  a  little  alarmed  at 
his  own  boldness,  "I  thought  I'd  better  tell  you  that 
I  heard  what  you  and  Steve  were  talking  about  this 
afternoon  —  about  Bob  and  his  box,  you  know.  And 
it  was  really  for  you,  then,  that  he  wanted  that 
money?  " 

"  Geoffrey,"  said  Arthur,  gravely,  "  did  you 
really  listen  to  us?  How  could  you  be  so  dis- 
honorable ?  " 

"I  didn't  listen,"  said  Geoffrey,  his  lip  trembling. 
"I  heard.  O,  Arthur,  you  promised  you-  wouldn't 
be  angry  with  me  !  " 

"And  I  am  not,"  said  Arthur,  recovering  his  self- 
possession.  "  If  you  didn't  mean  to  listen,  all  right. 
One  is  very  likely  to  misunderstand  what  he  over- 
hears in  that  way." 


270 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"  But  I  didn't  misunderstand,"  said  Geoffrey,  per- 
sistently. "I  heard  Steve  say,  quite  plainly,  that 
Bob  sold  his  box  to  pay  your  debts.  Do  you 
have  debts,  Arthur?" 

"You  mustn't  ask  me  such  questions,  Geoffrey," 
said  Arthur,  turning  away  his  face.  "I  cannot 
answer  them." 

"  O,  don't  be  vexed,  Arthur  !  "  said  Geoffrey.  fe  I 
won't  ask  any  more.  But  you  will  tell  grandpapa  — 
won't  you?  O,  he  was  so  angry  with  poor  Bob,  and 
Bob  wouldn't  tell.  I  don't  see  how  you  could  help 
speaking,  when  he  was  so  unhappy  !  " 

"Geoffrey,"  said  Arthur,  gravely  and  kindly,  "you 
forget  that  I  know  nothing  of  what  you  say  about 
Bob;  and  I  cannot  help  thinking  you  are  talking 
about  what  you  do  not  understand.  It  is  very 
wrong  for  a  little  boy  like  you  to  listen  to  what 
my  friends  and  I  say  to  each  other,  and  then  speak 
so  to  me."5 

"O,  Arty.!"  said  Geoffrey,  with  an  odd  little  break 
in  his  voice.  "It  was  only  for  poor  Bob!  Won't 
you  please  speak  to  grandpapa,  at  least,  and  ask  him 
to  be  kind  to  Bob  again?" 

"I  hope  he  is  kind  now,  Geoffrey,"  said  Arthur, 


ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREYS  ADVENTURE.  till 


quite  seriously.  "And  I  am  sure  you  are  talking 
more  than  is  good  for  you." 

And  then,  despite  poor  Geoffrey's  piteous  "(), 
Arthur,  please  jufe£  one  moment  more !  "  he  went 
away,  leaving  his  brother  inconsolable  at  the  result 
of  his  ill-timed  pleading  for  Bob. 


2,2 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


WAR  NEWS. 


NE  bright  summer  day,  the  party  of  young 


V_>^  people  went  to  Fisher's  Island  to  dine,  spend 
the  day,  and  have  a  sea-side  picnic.  It  was  the  last 
day  of  Steve  Lenox's  visit,  and  the  excursion  was 
undertaken  rather  for  his  entertainment  than  for 
anything  else  ;  for  Sue,  a  prime  element  in  all  par- 
ties of  pleasure,  was  not  to-day  in  quite  her  usual 
spirits.  No  war  letters  had  come  during  the  week, 
and  the  want  of  them  made  more  than  one  face  in 
the  little  group  sad. 

However,  Sue  had  not  refused  to  join  the  picnic 
party,  because  she  knew  she  should  be  missed  if  she 
yielded  to  her  own  inclinations,  and  staid  quietly 
in  her  room.  So  she  went,  and  the  day  passed 
as  such  days  usually  do.  The  island  was  a  pretty 
little  green  place,  with  plenty  of  fishing  facilities; 
there  were  clams  to  be  baked,  various  branches  of 
cookery  to  be  attended  to,  and  sea-baths  to  be  taken 


WAR  NEWS. 


273 


in  the  rocky  coves  of  the  island.  Then,  as  the  sun 
began  to  get  low,  and  to  gild  the  water  with  its 
long,  golden  rays,  the  little  party  gathered  together 
their  cooking  utensils,  and  took  to  their  boats, 
Sue,  Bob,  and  Jimmie  in  one,  and  the  rest  in  the 
other.  The  smaller  and  lighter  boat  reached  the 
shore  first;  and,  leaving  Bob  to  attend  to  the  haul- 
ing up  of  the  dory,  Sue  and  Jimmie  slowly  climbed 
the  steep  steps  up  the  bank. 

It  had  been  a  hot,  sultry  August  day,  and  as  they 
reached  the  pasture  which  must  be  crossed  before 
getting  to  the  house,  Sue  pushed  back  her  broad 
hat,  and  drew  a  long  sigh. 

"You're  tired,  cousin  Sue,"  said  Jimmie,  affec- 
tionately, looking  up  in  her  face. 

"  Only  a  little,  Jim  —  the  bright  sun  on  the  water 
has  given  me  a  headache,  I  think.  Suppose  I  sit 
down  under  this  tree  here,  and  you  run  in  and 
bring  me  the  paper,  and  —  and  any  letters  that  may 
have  been  brought  from  the  post-office." 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  Jimmie,  and  was  off  like  a 
shot.  Sue  sat  down  on  the  long,  bleached  pasture 
grass,  and  leaned  back  against  the  tree,  taking  off' 
her  hat  that  the  slight  breeze  might  blow  through 
18 


274 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


her  hair,  and  cool  her  heated  cheeks.  She  felt  unu- 
sually depressed  to-day,  and  the  merry-making  had 
been  hard  work.  Her  mind,  usually  turned  so  res- 
olutely to  the  bright  side,  would,  in  spite  of  her, 
bring  up,  to-day,  the  dark  picture  of  the  war,  and 
fancy  all  sorts  of  sorrowful  possibilities.  "There,  I 
mustn't !  "  said  she,  with  a  little  sigh  and  smile. 
"  Perhaps  Jimmie  will  bring  me  a  letter."  Jimmie 
appeared  running  across  the  field,  in  his  hand  only 
the  evening  paper. 

"Here  it  is,  cousin  Sue,"  said  he,  breathless. 
"I  didn't  stop  to  look,  but  there  is  a  long  list  of 
headings ;  perhaps  it's  war  news." 

Sue  seized  the  paper  with  trembling  hands,  and 
Jimmie  knelt  down  beside  her,  to  look  over  her 
shoulder.  Yes,  there  was  the  column,  with  the 
conspicuous  headings,  — 

w  Great  Battle.    Retreat  of  our  Forces.  The  

Regiment  engaged.  Heavy  Losses  among  Officers 
and  Men.    List  of  Killed  and  Wounded." 

"Guy's  regiment!"  said  Jimmie,  under  his 
breath.  With  fixed  eyes  and  white  cheeks,  Sue 
hurried  down  the  column,  till  she  came  to  the  list 
of  killed  and  wounded.  Jimmie  saw  in  the  long 
list  of  names  but  two. 


WAR  NEWS. 


275 


WAR  NEWS. 


"Severely  wounded,  Second  Lieutenant  John  Os- 
borne, Company  G." 

"Missing,  supposed  killed,  Colonel  Guy  Dalton, 
of  the   Regiment." 

Sue  raised  her  eyes  for  a  minute  to  Jimmie's 
white  face. 

"Do  you  see?"  she  began,  in  a  voice  that  fright- 
ened Jimmie,  it  was  so  unlike  hers.  Then,  before 
she  had  said  a  word  more,  she  sank  back  against 


27fi 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  became  so  white  and  cold 
that  Jimmie  thought  she  was  dead. 

"O,  dear  cousin  Sue,"  said  he,  putting  his 
arms  round  her  neck.  w  Don't  look  so ;  speak 
to  me  !  " 

But  as  she  did  not  speak,  and  lay  there,  with 
her  eyes  shut,  as  if  she  were  indeed  dead,  Jimmie 
fled  as  fast  as  his  trembling  knees  would  let  him 
to  the  house  for  help. 

The  house  seemed  empty.  Grandpapa  and  grand- 
mamma wrere  gone  to  drive,  the  boating  party  not 
yet  returned.  Jimmie  stood  on  the  stairs,  his  teeth 
chattering,  his  whole  little  frame  shivering,  and 
called  in  anguish,  "  Prissy,  Prissy !  Is  nobody 
there?    O,  will  nobody  come?" 

r  Bless  the  child  !  "  cried  Prissy,  emerging  from 
the  kitchen.  -"Tin  here.    Has  anything  happened ?" 

"O,  Prissy  ! "  said  Jimmie,  springing  towards  her. 
"Come  quickly.  Colonel  Dalton  is  dead,  and  it  has 
killed  cousin  Sue  !  " 

"1  don't  believe  it,"  said  Prissy,  firmly.  "Don't 
cry  and  shake  that  way,  Master  Jimmie,  dear  ;  she's 
only  fainted.    I'm  going  to  her  right  away." 

Under  the  influence  of  Prissy's  vigorous  remedies, 


WAR  NEWS. 


277 


poor  Sue  opened  her  eyes,  and  slowly  came  back 
to  the  consciousness  of  sorrow. 

"0,  Guy!"  said  she,  half  aloud ;  then  catching 
sight  of  Prissy's  kind,  familiar  face,  "Prissy,  is  it 
you?  He  is  dead!  I  knew  it  this  morning;"  and 
throwing  her  arms  round  Prissy's  neck,  she  seemed 
to  gasp  for  breath. 

"Don't  you  believe  it,  my  darling,"  said  the  old 
woman,  patting  Sue's  shoulder,  as  if  she  had  been 
a  child.  "Take  my  word  for  it,  it  will  turn  out  to 
be  a  story ;  these  newspaper  men  always  do  get 
things  tail  foremost!  And  now  you  get  right  up, 
and  let  me  help  you  into  the  house." 

"Yes,  I  must  go  to  Lillie,"  said  Sue,  spring- 
ing up. 

How  slowly  time  seems  to  pass  when  we  are  suf- 
fering from  any  sorrow  or  anxiety  L  How  long  it 
seems  since  we  heard  the  news  which  has  made  our 
hearts  so  heavy  !  Something  like  this  Bob  was  per- 
haps feeling,  as  he  sat  on  the  piazza,  with  the  same 
half-stunned  sensation  he  had  had  on  the  bright  sunny 

day  when  they  had  said  good  by  to  the  Regi 

meat.  How  Ions;  this  afternoon  seemed  since  the 
time  they  had  rowed  back  from  the  sunny  island, 


.278 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


and  what  endless  hours  since  grandpapa  had  hurried 
in  from  the  carriage,  exclaiming,  "  Where  is  my  poor, 
dear  girl?"  It  seemed  a  day,  at  least,  since  Bob 
himself  had  been  sitting  on  the  piazza,  trying  to 
realize  that  Guy  was  really  dead. 

You  will  think  this  story  of  mine  has  a  great 
many  tears  in  it ;  but  what  can  I  do  ?  Life  is  made 
up  of  tears  as  well  as  smiles,  you  know  ;  and  there 
are  even  some  hours  when  we  think  we  can  see  only 
clouds.  Well  for  us  if  we  can  remember,  then,  that 
when  the  clouds  are  thickest,  the  sun  is  still  shining 
behind  ! 

Suddenly  Bob  started  up  from  his  dejected  atti- 
tude, and  softly  hurried  up  stairs  through  the  entry, 
wdiich  no  one  had  remembered  to  light.  The  door 
of  Sue's  room  stood  ajar,  and  Bob  thought  he  could 
see  her  light  dress  on  the  sofa,  though  the  room 
was  dark. 

"Are  you  there,  Sue?"  said  he,  softly.  "May  I 
come  in?" 

The  figure  on  the  sofa  moved,  and  a  very  low 
voice  said,  "Yes,  Bob." 

Bob  went  up  to  the  sofa,  and  knelt  down  by  Sue. 
"  I  wanted  to  speftk  to  .you,"  said  he,  in  a  husky 
tone,  "about  something  that  —  " 


WAll  NEWS. 


279 


*  Don't  be  afraid  to  say  his  name,"  said  Sue. 
"Something  that  Guy  said,  Bob,  dear?" 

He  nodded  his  head.  "I  did  not  tell  you  about 
it,"  whispered  he,  "but  —  but  when  I  saw  him  last, 
he  gave  me  this  little  seal  of  his  to  remember  some- 
thing by.  And  —  and  if  anything  happened  to  him, 
I  was  to  give  it  to  you,  and  tell  you  to  look  at 
the  words  on  it." 

He  slipped  the  precious  seal  into  Sue's  hand,  and 
turned  aw7ay  his  face. 

"  It  is  his  little  f  jSursum  Corda  9  seal,"  said  Sue  ; 
and  if  Bob  could  have  seen  her  face  in  the  dark,  he 
would  have  seen  a  look  of  brightness,  almost  like  a 
smile,  on  it.  "Bob,"  said  she,  hesitating,  "would 
you  mind  telling  me  what  he  said,  and  what  you 
were  to  remember?" 

"I  want  to  tell  you,"  said  Bob,  still  hoarsely. 
"  It  was  the  day  we  went  to  the  camp ,  and  I  was  so 
unhappy  after  I  came  home,  that  I  had —  I  had  to 
go  to  him.  I  asked  him  to  take  me  with  him,  be- 
cause I  thought  I  was  too  unhappy  to  stay  here 
alone  without  him.  And  he  told  me  that  it  was 
cowardly  to  turn  my  back  on  what  I  had  to  bear, 
and  to  try  to  run  away  from  my  post.    He  told  me 


280 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


that  we  were  all  soldiers,  fighting  our  battles ;  and 
then  he  gave  me  this  little  seal,  and  told  me  to 
look  at  it  when  I  felt  lonely,  and  think  that  he  — 
O,  Sue,  I  have  made  you  cry !  " 

For  though,  in  the  darkness,  he  could  not  see  her 
face,  he  could  feel  Sue's  tears  dropping  on  his  hand. 

"No,  no,"  said  Sue,  putting  her  arms  round  the 
boy's  neck,  and  resting  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 
"Go  on,  dear  Bob;  I  want  to  hear." 

"I  was  to  think,"  said  Bob,  still  in  a  whisper, 
"that  my  friend  had  not  forgotten  me  — O,  I  have 
looked  so  many  times!  — and  if— if  such  a  time 
came  as  this,  I  was  to  give  the  seal  to  you,  and 
tell  you  to  think  that  he  would  have  said  those 
words  to  you.  But  O,  Sue,  dear,  don't  be  unhap- 
py; don't  cry!  I  can't  help  thinking  it  isn't  all 
so  dark  as  it  looks.  Please  don't  make  me  think  I 
have  made  you  more  unhappy." 

"You  haven't,  indeed,  dear  Bob,"  Sue  said,  kiss- 
ing his  cheek.  "You  have  been  like  a  little  com- 
forter to  me.  I  Avas  wishing  for  uncle  Arthur ;  but 
you  have  been  like  a  little  piece  of  him,  at  any  rate 
But,  indeed,  dear  boy,  I  cant  take  the  seal!  I 
would  nil  her  have  you  keep  it." 


WAR  NEWS. 


281 


"No,  no,"   said  Bob,  pushing  away  her  hand, 
and  dashing  the  tears  from  his  eyes.    "  It  is  yours, 
*  Sue.' 

"Keep  it,  Bob,"  said  Sue,  earnestly.  "It  will 
make  me  happier  to  know  you  have  it.  You  know 
I  have  — I  have  himself.  Would  you  tell  Lillie, 
please,  what  you  have  been  telling  me?  She  is  in 
her  room.  Good  night,  dear  boy  ;  "  and  Bob  stole 
gently  away. 

Poor  little  Lillie  !  her  sorrow  had  been  of  a  more 
stormy  kind  than  Sue's.  She  had  resolutely  refused 
to  see  anybody,  and  was  sitting  crouched  in  a  great 
arm-chair  in  her  room,  all  flushed  and  dishevelled 
with  the  violence  of  her  grief.  Bob  hesitated  on 
the  threshold,  but  it  was  not  only  Sue's  errand  he 
came  on.  Generous  still,  even  in  what  was  to  him 
so  much  to  give,  he  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  keep 
Guy's  seal  to  himself.  He  was  almost  afraid  to 
tell  the  story  to  Lillie,  and  his  voice  trembled  all 
through,  so  that  he  had  to  stop  several  times. 

Lillie  had  sat  quite  silent  while  he  was  speaking; 
but  when  he  ended,  she  put  out  her  hands  in  the 
darkness,  and  taking  Bob's  hand,  pressed  it  hard, 
without  saying  a  word. 


282 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Bob  opened  her  hand,  and  dropped  into  it  the 
little  seal.  "Would  you  like  to  keep  it,  Lillie?" 
said  he,  in  a  whisper. 

"I  don't  want  to  take  it  away  from  you,  Bob, " 
said  Lillie;  "you  cared  for  Guidie  so  much!  But," 
wistfully,  "would  you  mind  very  much  if  I  kept  it 
in  the  night?  I  should  like  so  much  to  feel  it  under 
my  pillow,  and  I  would  give  it  to  you  when  morn- 
ing came." 

And  that  was  the  first  compact  between  Bob 
and  Lillie. 

Early  in  the  morning  Mr.  Osborne  went  on  to 
Washington  with  uncle  John,  who  was  o-0in<r  to 
bring  poor  Jack  home  from  the  hospital.  "Shot 
through  both  ankles,"  the  telegram  had  said;  and 
Geoffrey,  remembering  the  nonsense  verse  he  had 
written  down  so  carefully,  quite  forgot  to  be  manly 
in  his  grief  for  cousin  Jack. 

Those  were  long,  weary,  sad  days  when  grand- 
papa was  away.  Everybody  knew  that  he  could 
not  bring  home  any  hopeful  news,  but  every  one 
waited  in  suspense,  and  longed  for  his  leturu. 
The  house  was  still  and  silent.     Lillie  had  wept  and 


WAR  NEWS. 


283 


worried  herself  into  a  sort  of  slow  fever,  and  lay 
all  day,  with  hot  cheeks,  tossing  in  her  little  bed, 
while  Sue,  so  pale  that  she  looked  like  the  ghost  of 
her  rosy  self,  took  untiring  care  of  her.  As  for  the 
boys,  even  noisy  Geoffrey  spoke  in  whispers;  and 
as  for  Arthur,  he  seemed  more  wretched  than  any 
one,  though  he  had,  perhaps,  known  Guy  least.  He 
wandered  about,  haggard  and  restless,  as  if  he 
could  not  be  still. 

At  last,  on  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  Mr. 
Osborne  came  back;  and  Sue,  white  as  a  sheet,  and 
with  dark  circles  round  her  eyes,  stole  down  noise- 
lessly to  meet  him. 

She  looked  up  in  his  face,  for  she  could  not  speak 
a  word.  Grandpapa  caught  her  in  his  arms,  as  if 
he  thought  she  was  about  to  fall. 

*  Don't  look  so,  my  dear  girl,"  said  he,  in  his 
hearty  tone ;  "  keep  up  a  brave  heart.  It  is  not 
so  bad,  after  all.  Reports  reached  us  to-day  that 
Guy  is  not  dead.    That  is  good  news  —  isn't  it?" 

"Where  is  he?"  said  Sue,  holding  fast  to  the 
baluster. 

"Why,"  said  grandpapa,  seemingly  very  busy 
with    his  shawl   and   bag,    ff  he  is   a  prisoner,  I 


284 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


fear;  but  we  must  hope  for  the  best,  Susie.  What 
have  you  been  doing  to  make  yourself  look  like 
that?" 

"Lillie  is  sick,"  said  grandmamma,  at  his  elbow, 
"  and  Sue  won't  let  any  one  go  near  her  but  her- 
self." 

"It  makes  me  happier  to  be  with  her,"  whispered 
Sue,  raising  her  eyes  to  Mr.  Osborne's  face;  "don't 
tell  me  I  mustn't,  please.  O,  grandpapa,  do  you 
call  Andersonville  good  news?" 

"We  must  look  at  it  as  brightly  as  we  can,  my 
girl,"  said  grandpapa,  trying  to  speak  loud  and 
cheerfully.  "  A  prison  is  better,  at  all  events,  than 
a  ball  through  both  ankles,  like  my  poor  Jack. 
That  boy  a  cripple  for  life  !  and  even  on  that  hos- 
pital bed  as  full  of  his  fun  and  spirits  as  ever! 
When  John  went  up  to  him,  he  looked  up  with  a 
little  smile,  my  clear,"  turning  to  grandmamma,  "and 
said,  ?0  my  prophetic  soul,  my  father!  if  I  had 
only  said  both  legs,  instead  of  one !  Not  half  a 
chance,  even,  did  they  leave  me  of  running  away.'" 

Grandpapa  coughed  loudly,  and  Sue  stole  away 
to  Lillie. 


WAR  NEWS. 

"O,  Sue,"  said  Bob,  meeting  her  at  the  top  of 
the  stairs,  "it  is  surely  better  than  —  " 

«  Don't  talk  about  it  now,  Bob,  dear,  please.  I 
thought  he  was  out  of  pain,  at  least;  and  now  to 
think  of  him  dying  by  inches  in  a  rebel  prison  !  " 

And  with  a  shudder  she  hurried  past  him,  while 
Bob's  heart  sank  again. 


286 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 

THIS  idea  of  the  rebel  prison,  coming  to  poor 
little  Lillie  in  her  ailing  state,  so  worked  upon 
her  fevered  imagination,  that  she  . became  quite  seri- 
ously ill,  and  in  her  dreams  moaned  about  poor  Guy 
starving  to  death,  till  the  nights  were  more  trying  to 
her  patient  nurse  than  the  days.  Sue  had  begun  to 
look  so  worn  and  haggard  that  grandpapa  interfered, 
and  tried  to  forbid  her  going  near  Lillie's  bedside. 
But  this  was  a  hard  fiat  to  carry  out  when  both  nurse 
and  patient  were  bent  on  breaking  it.  Sue  pleaded, 
and  Lillie  refused  to  have  any  one  else  lift  a  finger 
for  her;  and  no  one  could  have  the  heart,  just  now, 
1o  rouse  Lillie  from  this  unthinking  selfishness  by 
a  word. 

The  nights  were  growing  cool  and  damp  now  at 
Rockedge,  and  both  on  that  account,  and  to  be  nearer 
the  city  in  case  of  possible  war  news,  all  longed  to 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLfC. 


287 


be  at  Lakeside  Hill.  But  Lillie  was  really  too  ill  to 
be  moved. 

At  last  Prissy,  who,  in  virtue  of  her  long  service 
in  the  family,  sometimes  assumed  the  right  to  speak 
a  timely  word,  determined  that  this  was  a  case 
for  her. 

"The  child  needs  nothing  in  the  world  to  make 
her  well  but  a  little  pleasant  scolding,"  said  she, 
shrewdly,  to  herself.  "And  since  everybody  else  is 
too  soft-hearted  to  speak  a  sharp  word,  — and  no 
wonder,  I'm  sure,  poor  dears,  —  why,  it  must  come 
from  me.  I  shan't  hurt  her;  my  bark  is  worse  than 
my  bite." 

Accordingly,  one  afternoon,  Prissy,  armed  with 
some  of  her  most  delicate  jelly  (perhaps  to  aid  in 
administering  the  bitter  pill  she  deemed  so  neces- 
sary.), ascended  to  Lillie's  room. 

"Here's  some  of  my  nice  wine  jelly  I've  made  on 
purpose  for  you,  Miss  Lillie,"  she  began,  coaxingly. 
«  You'd  like  that  now —  wouldn't  you?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Lillie,  fretfully,  turning  her  face  to 
the  wall.  "It's  no  use  to  make  me  nice  things, 
Prissy.  I  can't  eat ;  it  chokes  me  when  I  think  of 
Guy  —  dying,  perhaps,  for  a  piece  of  bread.  Take 
it  awTay,  please." 


288 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


But  Prissy  remained  standing  by  the  table, 
thoughtfully  clinking  the  spoon  against  the  glass. 
She  was  thinking  how  to  begin,  for  she  was  no  Gor- 
gon, save  in  her  own  eyes,  and,  in  truth,  as  soft- 
hearted as  any  of  the  others. 

"Miss  Lillie,"  she  began,  presently,  in  rather  a 
timid  tone,  "if  you'll  let  an  old  woman  speak,  I'm 
going  to  say  something  to  you.  You're  not  behav- 
ing pretty  now,  my  dear — not,  I  am  sure,  as  your 
brother  would  like  to  see  you." 

"I  don't  know  why  not,  Prissy,"  said  Lillie,  look- 
ing up  in  some  astonishment.  "I  can't  help  being 
sick." 

"Some  folks  can  help  things  more  than  they  think 
for,"  said  Prissy,  sagely.  "Nobody  gets  well  by 
lying  on  their  backs  and  saying,  <I  can't  eat;  I 
can't  drink ;  I  can't  help  thinking  of  this,  that,  and 
the  other.' " 

"You're  unkind,  Prissy,"  said  Lillie,  in  a  grieved 
ton?,.    "  Can  I  help  thinking  of  poor  Guy  ?  " 

"No;  no  more  can  other  folks,"  said  Prissy,  who, 
having  broken  the  ice,  was  now  determined  to  "  kill 
or  cure."  "But  that's  no  reason  for  talking  so  much 
about  it,  and  giving  other  people  twice  as  bad  a 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


281) 


heartache  as  they  had  before.  Look  at  poor  Miss 
Sue,  fading  away  like  a  snow-wreath  before  our  eyes, 
wearing  herself  out  for  you,  Miss  Lillie,  when,  if  she 
said,  l?ke  you,  ?I  can't  help  it,'  she'd  be  crying  her 
eyes  out  for  her  lover.  Poor  darling  !  do  you  think 
she  never  thinks  of  him  starving  there,  as  you  say, 
in  that  hole,  without  your  telling  her  of  it?  That's 
what  I  call  not  pretty  in  you,  Miss  Lillie." 

"I  did  not  think,"  said  Lillie,  in  so  low7  a  tone  that 
it  is  a  wonder  Prissy  heard. 

w  I  don't  mean,"  said  the  old  woman,  going  on  very 
quickly,  as  if  afraid  her  courage  would  fail  her  if  she 
stopped,  w  that  anybody  need  go  to  look  at  this  with 
such  a  long  face,  neither,  if  only  they  would  make 
up  their  minds  to  see  the  bright  side.  Now,  you 
listen  to  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you,  Miss  Lillie,  and 
don't  let  your  heart  die  away  like  that.  Mark  my 
words  :  your  brother'll  come  out  of  prison  yet.  I 
always  did  say  that  boy  would  fall  on  his  feet,  ever 
since  —  " 

Lillie  involuntarily  turned  her  face  towards  the 
speaker,  for  there  was  something  soothing  ("  like  an 
old  cat's  purring,"  saucy  Fanny  Osborne  had  once 
*aid)  in  Prissy  s  manner  of  telling  a  story, 
19 


290 


BATTLES  AT  HOME . 


?fIt  was  a  good  many  years  ago,"  said  the  old 
woman,  observing  the  movement  on  the  part  of  her 
auditor,  "before  3-011  were  born,  my  dear.  Master 
Guy  wasn't  more  than  seven,  and  your  dear  pa  — 
whom  you  never  saw,  Miss  Lillie  — had  brought  him 
to  spend  the  day  at  Lakeside  Hill.  We  were  build- 
ing out  the  piazza  from  the  south  window  then,  and 
the  little  fellow  couldn't  have  enough  of  looking  at 
the  carpenters  and  masons  at  their  work.  He  would 
keep  going  to  that  window,  and  my  mind  misgave  me 
that  he'd  be  up  to  some  mischief;  there  was  nothing 
only  beams  to  the  piazza  then,  you  know.  But  your 
grandma'am  —  Mrs.  Osborne,  I  mean  (she's  so  easy 
always)  — said,  fO,  Prissy,  what  an  old  Betty  you 
are,  with  your  worries  all  the  time  about  this  child 
and  that !  You  mind  your  work,  and  don't  be  afraid 
of  the  little  boy's  coming  to  harm ;  aren't  the  men 
there  to  take  care  of  him?'  'Very  well,  ma'am,' 
says  I ;  but  I  thought  to  myself,  f  Yes,  and  by  and  by 
the  men  go  to  their  dinner,  and  then  who's  to  look 
out  for  little  Guy  ?  '  So,  after  I'd  put  my  cake  in  the 
oven,  I  slipped  up  stairs,  lbr  my  mind  misgave  me, 
and  there,  sure  enough  —  not  a  mason  or  a  painter  to 
be  seen,  and  the  little  boy  out  on  one  of  the  beams, 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


291 


I  gave  a  frightened  sort  of  scream,  and  I  suppose 
startled  him.  He  kind  of  looked  round  quick,  lost 
his  balance,  and  fell  off  the  beam.  I  screamed  then 
in  good  earnest,  and  flew  to  the  window,  expecting 
to  see  him  lying  dead  on  the  ground.  Not  a  bit  of 
it.  There  he  was,  standing  on  his  feet,  and  looking 
up  as  smiling  and  saucy  as  you  please.  'Don't  be 
frightened,'  says  he  ;  ?  I'm  not  hurt  a  bit.  I  fell  right 
on  my  feet!'  And  mark  my  words:  he'll  do  just 
that  all  the  rest  of  his  life.  I  feel  it  in  every  bone 
that  he'll  get  out  of  that  prison." 

Prissy's  philosophy  might  not  be  logical,  but  it 
was,  at  all  events,  cheering,  and  seemed  to  put  new 
heart  into  her  little  listener. 

"Give  me  the  jelly,  Prissy,"  said  she,  sitting  up 
with  more  energy  than  she  had  shown  for  days. 
"I'm  going  to  eat  it  all,  and  get  well  just  as  soon 
as  I  can." 

"Bless  your  pretty  face,"  said  the  old  woman, 
and  hurried  off  to  the  kitchen,  with  her  apron  to 
her  eyes. 

"I've  been  very  selfish,  sister  Sue,"  Lillie  said, 
with  a  sigh,  as  her  nurse  came  in  to  take  the  empty 
glass.  "Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  I  was  making 
you  do  too  much  for  me?" 


292 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"Because,  my  darling,"  said  Sue,  "it  made  me 
happy  to  do  it." 

"It  wasn't  that  I  forgot  you,"  went  on  Lillie, 
thoughtfully,  shaking  her  head,  "  but  I  didn't  think 
how  hard  I  was  making  it  for  you.  Now  tell  me, 
Sue,  didn't  you  think  a  little  bit,  at  first,  that  having 
Guy  in  prison  was  harder  than  having  him  dead?" 

"At  first,"  said  Sue,  dropping  her  eyes,  "but  not 
now.  O,  Lillie,  dear,  we  mustn't  feel  that  anything 
we  have  to  bear  is  too  hard  for  us ;  if  it  were,  we 
shouldn't  have  it." 

"But,"  whispered  Lillie,  "isn't  it  hard  that  the 
suffering  should  come  on  Guidie?  We  may  get  to 
think  it  not  so  hard  for  us,  but  for  him  — " 

"  Hush,  Lillie  !  "  said  Sue  ;  "  let's  remember, 
darling,  what  I  know  clear  Guy  is  thinking  for 
himself,  that  no  suffering  comes  to  us  unsent,  and 
that,  if  we  try  to  run  away  from  it,  and  say  we  can't 
bear  it,  we  are  poor  soldiers,  after  all,  as  he  said." 

"I  think  it's  hard,  still,  Sue,"  said  Lillie,  with 
something  of  her  old  persistency  ;  "  but  I  shan't  make 
it  any  harder,  at  any  rate.  I'm  going  to  get  well 
now." 

And  the  next  day,  to  everybody's  surprise,  she 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


203 


bej^ed  to  be  dressed  and  carried  down  to  the  parlor 
sofa.  A  new  atmosphere  seemed  to  be  felt  in  the 
house  at  this  little  gleam  of  brightness. 

Other  clouds,  too,  were  lifting.  No  sooner  was 
Steve  Lenox  gone  —  a  most  uncongenial  element  in 
the  house  of  sorrow  every  one  had  felt  him  to  be  — 
than  Arthur  dropped  from  his  somewhat  unnatural 
gayety  into  entire  dejection,  and,  as  I  said,  wandered 
about  the  house  with  such  a  wretched  face,  that  Bob 
tried  to  comfort  him,  thinking  that  perhaps,  after  all, 
Arthur  had  cared  for  Guy  as  much  as  himself.  But 
Arthur  repulsed  him  almost  roughly,  and  avoided 
everybody. 

At  last,  one  afternoon,  as  grandpapa  was  writing 
letters  in  his  little  study,  he  happened  to  raise  his 
eyes,  and  saw  Arthur  standing  beside  him. 

*  What  is  it?  "  said  he,  poising  his  pen  in  his  hand. 
"You  are  too  considerate,  Arthur;  you  need  not 
have  been  afraid  of  interrupting  me." 

"It  wasn't  that,  sir,"  said  Arthur,  in  a  low  tone. 
"I  wasn't  ready  to  speak.  Grandpapa,  I'm  going 
to  ask  you  for  some  money." 

<f  Well,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "you  needn't  look 
so  wretched  about  that,  Arthur.  You  shall  have  it, 
and  welcome,  if  you'll  tell  me  what  for." 


201 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"I  came  to  tell  you  sir,"  said  Arthur,  picking  up 
the  pen  Mr.  Osborne  had  dropped,  and  playing  with 
it  nervously.  "The  fact  is,  I  owe  some  money  to 
one  of  the  fellows." 

"Debts!"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  pushing  back  his 
chair.  "  Debts  at  your  age?  Highty-tighty,  Arthur  ! 
I  never  had  debts  when  I  was  as  young  as  you. 
However,  let's  hear  the  story  ;  it  is  something,  at 
least,  that  you  come  to  me  honestly  and  confess  it. 
I  wish  Bob  were  as  honest." 

rBob?"  exclaimed  Arthur.  "O,  grandpapa,  don't 
say  anything  of  Bob  till  you  have  heard  the  story  !  It 
has  all  been  my  fault ;  you  have  been  so  mistaken  —  " 

"  Mistaken  ! "  said  the  old  gentleman,  knitting  his 
brows.  "I  never  let  any  one  tell  me  I'm  mistaken 
till  I  say  so  myself.  But  what  is  this  you  say  about 
Bob  ?    Out  with  the  story,  Arthur." 

And  Arthur  told  it,  with  many  falterings,  many 
pauses,  for  it  was  a  severe  trial  to  his  moral  courage 
to  stand  before  so  irascible  a  judge  as  Mr.  Osborne 
—  a  severe  trial  to  his  pride,  too,  to  feel  himself 
lowered  in  the  eyes  of  his  partial  grandfather.  But 
he  had  suffered  too  much  from  his  concealment  to 
hide  anything  now.  He  told  the  whole  story,  with- 
out sparing  or  excusing  himself. 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


295 


"And  O,"  he  ended,  "I  have  been  so  unhappy, 
though,  indeed,  I  did  not  know  how  bad  it  had  been 
for  Bob  till  very  lately.  And  then  I  still  thought 
for  a  little  while  that  I  would  not  tell  you.  But  this 
news  about  Guy  seemed  to  make  me  feel  as  if  I  could 
not  be  a  hypocrite  any  longer.  You  do  not  know, 
sir,  how  wretched  I  have  been." 

"1  never  could  have -believed  it  of  you,  Arthur  — 
this  gambling,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  slowly.  Poor 
Arthur  winced,  for  these  were  the  very  words  he  had 
dreaded.  "But  I  dare  say  there  is  some  excuse  for 
you.  At  any  rate,  you  have  been  wretched  enough 
to  pay  for  it.  What  I  can't  understand  is,  how  you 
could  have  let  me  treat  poor  Bob  so  —  " 

"That  is  the  very  thing,"  said  Arthur,  eagerly. 
"  But,  grandpapa,  you  know  for  some  time  I  did  not 
realize  that  there  was  anything  the  matter  with  Bob. 
He  never  told  me  he  was  unhappy,  and  I  was  too 
much  troubled  about  myself  to  find  it  out." 

"  Poor,  clear,  noble  little  fellow  ! "  said  the  impul- 
sive oid  gentleman  ;  "I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  a  brute  to 
him."  And  plunging  at  the  bell,  he  sent  a  servant 
to  call  Master  Bob. 

Bob  appeared,  all  unconscious  and  unthinking  of 


BATTLES  AT  HOME  • 


self.  He  opened  the  library  door  with  almost  an 
anxious  air. 

"Is  there  any  more  war  news?"  said  he,  advan- 
cing a  step  or  two.  "  O,  grandpapa,  nothing  worse, 
please  ! " 

"  Come  here,  Bob/'  said  Mr.  Osborne,  holding  out 
his  hand.  The  kind  tone,  and  the  sight  of  Arthur, 
standing  there  with  downcast  head,  seemed  to  lift  the 
veil  from  Bob's  eyes.  He  colored  very  red,  though 
it  seemed  like  a  flush  of  joy. 

"  O,  Arthur  !  "  said  he  ;  "  have  you  told,  really?  " 

w  Bob,"  said  grandpapa,  "  we  want  to  ask  your 
pardon,  all  of  us,  for  treating  you  so  harshly,  when 
you  deserved  something  so  different  from  us.  You 
have  been  a  very  generous,  honorable,  noble  fellow, 
and  you  must  forgive  us  if  we  seemed  to  think 
otherwise." 

Bob  hung  his  head,  as  if  he  were  a  culprit,  and 
Arthur  said,  "Bob,  I  never  would  have  let  it  go  on 
so  long,  if  I  had  known  it  Was  your  box  you  sold. 
But  I  needn't  make  excuses  for  myself ;  I  ought  to 
have  seen." 

"O,  I  hope  Digby  did  not  tell  you,"  said  Bob,  as 
if  he  could  not  bear  to  hear  Arthur  beg  his  for- 
giveness. 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


297 


MR.  OSBORNE  UNDERSTANDS  IT. 


"No;  Steve  guessed,  and  Geoffrey  told  me  that 
grandpapa  had  been  so  angry  with  yon,  when  you 
would  not  speak  for  my  sake  —  " 

"There's  the  evil  of  your  making  intimates  of 
these  rich,  fast  fellows,"  interrupted  grandpapa,  for- 
getting, apparently,  that  ho  had  himself  expressed 
approval  of  the  friendship  with  Steve  Lenox ;  "  and 
another  thing,  it  is  hard  for  you  boys  to  have  to  go 
through  the  world  with  so  little  pocket  money,  and 


298 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


so  I  tell  your  father  —  but  there  !  I  suppose  it  can't 
be  helped." 

"Don't  make  excuses  for  me,  sir,"  said  Arthur, 
coloring.  "Bob  has  no  more  money  than  I,  but  he 
does  not  do  so." 

"Bob?  O,  well,"  said  grandpapa,  with  a  funny, 
quizzical  look,  "  you  know  Bob  doesn't  care  for  such 
things ;  so  it's  no  merit  to  him.  But  there  ! "  said 
the  old  gentleman,  kindly,  giving  Bob  a  hearty  ship 
on  the  shoulder;  "he's  a  manly,  brave  boy,  and  we 
wouldn't  wish  to  change  him." 

Bob  was  far  too  happy,  both  in  his  grandfather's 
affection,  and  his  brother's  tardy  recognition  of  his 
services,  to  examine  into  this  speech,  or  to  ask  what 
in  him  was  to  be  changed. 

Arthur  would  fain  have  told  him  the  end  of  the 
story,  and  how  he  had  not  been  cured  of  his  weak- 
ness even  by  his  brother's  generosity  ;  but  Bob  could 
not  bear  to  hear  him,  and  grandpapa,  who  secretly 
felt  uncomfortable  while  his  favorite  was  humbling 
himself,  interfered. 

"Enough,  enough,  Arthur!"  said  he.  "Don't 
force  Bol)  to  hear  your  confessions.  All  is  forgotten 
and  forgiven  between  you  ;  it  only  remains  to  tell 


THE  CLOUDS  LIFT  A  LITTLE. 


299 


the  rest  of  the  family,  and  clear  off  the  character  of 
our  hardly-used  little  hero." 

Here  again  Bob  interfered,  begging  that  Jimmie 
might  not  be  told  :  it  would  grieve  him  as  much  as  it 
would  papa.  Arthur,  to  pacify  him,  tacitly  con- 
sented to  the  arrangement  that  Jimmie  should  not 
hear  the  story.  That  night,  however,  he  told  his 
little  brothers  the  whole  history,  Jimmie  listening  in 
silence,  Geoffrey  sitting  up  in  bed,  and  cross-examin- 
ing Arthur  with  the  keenness  of  a  lawyer.  This 
made  it  none  the  easier  for  his  elder  brother :  humble 
pie  is  a  very  unpalatable  dish  to  most  people.  But 
had  he  known  it,  Arthur  had  never  been  more  nearly 
great  than  now,  when  he  felt  himself  so  small. 

?f  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it,"  cried  Lillie,  clapping  her 
hands,  when  she  was  told  the  story.  n  I  knew  Bob 
was  no  humbug,  whatever  else  he  might  be  !  O, 
wouldn't  Guy  be  glad !  " 

And  perhaps  it  was  this  thought  which  predom- 
inated in  Bob's  own  happiness. 


300 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

COMING  HOME. 

GOLDEN  October  had  come  now,  and  the  trees 
at  Lakeside  Hill  were  flushed  with  scarlet, 
yellow,  and  crimson.  The  summer  roses  and  lilies 
had  faded  in  the  garden,  and  bright  asters,  or  bushes 
of  flaming  salvia,  had  taken  their  places.  The  air 
was  crisp  and  cool,  and  the  crackling  wood  fires 
were  very  cheerful  in  the  lengthening  evenings. 
And  how  were  the  faces  round  them?  Some  people 
never  talk  of  their  sorrows,  and  Sue  Osborne  was 
one  of  these.  Up  stairs  in  her  room,  she  and  Lillie 
talked  of  Guy,  sympathized  with  each  other,  or 
prayed  for  patience  ;  down  stairs,  both  tried  to  look, 
as  they  tried  to  feel,  bright  and  hopeful. 

The  young  people  were  gathered  out  on  the  stops 
one  sunny  afternoon,  just  returned  from  a  long  walk, 
or  perhaps  a  game  of  croquet,  when  Jimmic  came 
running  up  the  avenue,  with  a  sunshiny  face,  and 
a  letter  in  his  hand. 


COMING  HOME. 


301 


"Q,  boys,  a  letter  from  papa!"  cried  he;  "and 
such  good  news  in  it ! " 

"  I  wish  any  good  news  would  come  to  me"  said 
LHlie,  sighing.  She  seemed  to  be  speaking  to  her- 
self, scarcely  knowing  that  she  spoke  aloud ;  bu* 
Jimmie  looked  sorry. 

"  Are  they  coming  home?"  exclaimed  Bob,  catch- 
ing the  letter  from  Jimmie's  hand.  "  O,  let  me 
read  it !  " 

"Out  loud,"  said  Geoffrey.    So  Bob  read. 

Paris,  October  2,  18—. 
You  will  be  surprised,  dear  boys,  to  see  the  date 
of  this  letter,  for  you  have  probably  been  thinking 
of  us  in  Italy  still.  But  no  ;  we  have  been  in  Paris 
now  some  days,  and  are  beginning  to  feel  as  much 
at  home  here  as  travellers  who  live  in  carpet-bags 
and  trunks  can  feel  when  they  drop  down  for  a  little 
time  into  a  large,  strange  city.  We  roam  through 
the  Louvre,  and  the  Tuileries,  and  I  look  at  the 
column  in  the  Place  VendQme,  and  remember  how 
we  read  the  Rollo  Books  to  Geoffrey,  when  he  was 
getting  over  the  scarlet  fever,  two  winters  ago. 
Would  you  like  me  to  imitate  Rollo,  GeofSe,  and  ga 


302 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


with  Lillie  and  mamma  to  the  Hippodrome  some 
Sunday?  That  story  gives  a  very  good  idea  of 
Paris  on  a  Sunday,  more  lively,  bustling,  and  gay 
than  on  any  other  day  in  the  week.  But  though, 
you  know,  at  home  I  always  wished  that  there 
might  be  reading-rooms  open,  or  concerts  given,  to 
make  Sunday  a  bright,  beautiful  day  to  the  poor, 
hard-worked  people,  who  find  every-day  living  so 
wearing  to  head,  heart,  and  hands,  this  isn't  precisely 
the  kind  of  recreation  I  should  advise  for  them,  and 
certainly  would  be  very  unsuitable  diversion  for  a 
sober  old  minister.  So  on  Sundays  we  walk  in  the 
gardens,  or  sometimes  go  into  one  of  the  Catholic 
churches,  and  listen  to  the  beautiful  music,  while 
all  around  us  kneel  the  people,  telling  their  beads. 
Lillie  looks  at  them  with  wondering  eyes,  and  to- 
day asked  me  if  "they  had  those  little  things  to 
tell  them  how  far  they'd  got"  — in  their  prayers,  1 
suppose  she  meant. 

But  you  will,  I  know,  be  wishing  to  ask  if  we 
tired  of  Italy,  that  we  came  to  Paris  three  or  four 
weeks  earlier  than  we  intended.  Not  at  all.  Ital- 
ian skies  are  as  blue  and  sunny,  the  oranges  and 
myrtles  as  fragrant,  as  all  travellers  tell  us;  but 


COMING  HOME. 


303 


there  is  something  that  we  care  more  to  see  thin 
anything  in  Italy  —  a  certain  spot  in  New  England. 
And  now  you  will  have  guessed  that  we  are  coming 
home,  and  that  Boston,  with  its  east  winds,  is  more 
attractive  to  us  just  now,  for  the  sake  of  the  people 
in  it,  than  anything  that  Italy  or  Paris  can  show  us. 

Arthur  will  remind  me  that  I  am  not,  in  this  in- 
stance, acting  up  to  one  of  my  own  maxims  —  "Im- 
prove to  the  full  your  opportunities."  Very  true  ; 
but  indeed  I  feel  that  I  have  seen  and  enjoyed  al- 
ready enough  to  last  a  lifetime,  and  as,  thank  God, 
my  body  has  been  getting  new  strength,  while  my 
mind  has  been  getting  new  impressions,  I  feel  that 
the  very  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  get  home  as  fast  as 
I  can  —  to  my  home,  my  work,  and  you,  dear  boys. 
And  that  is  why  we  are  seeing  Paris  in  a  hurry,  and 
why  we  hope,  not  many  days  after  this  letter  reaches 
you,  to  be  with  you. 

Indeed,  though  one  mustn't  grumble  over  so  much 
pleasure  as  we  have  had,  travelling  in  foreign  coun- 
tries is  a  hard  medicine  to  take  cheerfully,  while 
war  is  going  on  at  home  —  while  every  one  who 
can  speak  a  comforting  word  to  sorrowing  hearts, 
or  lift  a  finger  to  help,  is  needed.    1  cannot  tell 


304 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


you,  dear  ones,  bow  I  have  longed  to  he  with  you 
in  this  trouble  that  has  come  to  you  all,  and  the 
news  of  which  has  reached  us  so  lately.  Wandei- 
ing  about,  as  we  have  done,  your  last  letters  have 
missed  us  ;  and  it  was  not  till  we  got  here  to  Paris 
that  we  found  a  budget  of  the  tardy  letters,  and  in 
them  the  piece  of  war  news  that  comes  right  home 
to  our  hearts. 

I  have  written  to  Sue;  so  what  I  say  here  is 
to  you  boys  only.  Bob  tells  me  that  Sue  wished 
for  uncle  Arthur;  but,  indeed,  I  doubt  if,  were  he 
there,  he  could  say  more  to  comfort  her  than  her 
own  brave,  sunny  hean,  does.  She  is  one  of  the 
hopeful  ones  ;  so  I  need  uot  tell  her  that  we  must 
look  on  the  bright  side.  One  of  you  tells  me  that 
at  first  he  felt  as  if  Guy  were  bettor  dead  than 
in  prison.  That  feeling  will  not  last.  I  do  not 
mean  that  I  wish  heaven  to  be  anything  but  a  bright, 
beautiful  thought  to  all  of  us,  or  a  dead  friend  other 
than  very  near.  But  while  there  is  life  there  is 
hope,  always,  you  know  — hope  of  a  return  to  us, 
and  hope  of  a  continuance  of  the  work  of  which  we 
all  have  so  much  to  do  on  earth.  Guy  Dalton,  I 
blow,  had  not  finished  bis.    So  we  musl  keen  t;t. 


COMING  HOME. 


305 


our  coin-age,  and  hope  for  the  best,  even  when  we 
think  of  the  rebel  prison,  or  poor  cousin  Jack's 
crutches. 

I  have  something  more  to  say  of  the  war  —  the 
War  at  Home,  this  time  —  of  which  we  talked 
before  I  left  home.    From  you,  Arthur  — 

"This  is  for  you,  Arty,"  said  Bob,  stopping  and 
coloring.    "I  won't  read  this  aloud." 
He  srave  the  sheet  to  his  brother. 

o 

From  you,  Arthur,  we  have  just  received  the 
story,  fully,  truly  told,  I  know,  of  your  tempta- 
tions, your  weakness,  and  your  repentance.  I 
know  you  do  not  like  those  words,  "I  hope  it 
will  be  lesson  to  you ;  "  but  I  say  them,  neverthe- 
less. These  lessons,  dear  boy,  learned  by  our  own 
experience  and  suffering,  are  always  the  most  per- 
fectly learned,  the  best  remembered;  and  if  your 
suffering  shall  have  taught  you  strength,  I  hive 
nothing  more  to  say.  This  kind  of  suffering,  I 
know,  is  too  sharp  to  need  an  additional  sting,  and 
I  will  not  add  it  by  another  word.  I  have  forgiven 
freely,  as  Bob  has  done. 

20 


306 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


Arthur  looked  up  for  a  minute  at  his  brother, 
after  reading  these  lines  to  himself,  then  finished 
the  letter  aloud. 

For  Bob,  dear,  noble  boy,  I  must  say  a  word, 
though  I  doubt  whether  anything  I  can  say  will  pay 
him  better  than  the  inward  voice  which  says,  "Well 
done."  Don't  think  we  did  not  see,  from  your  let- 
ters, that  you  were  not  quite  your  bright  happy  self, 
Bob.  We  saw  the  little  shadow,  and  were  sorry ; 
for  a  bright,  joyous  spirit  is  a  wonderful  helper  on 
life's  road.  But  we  did  not  find  out  the  cause  of 
the  cloud  till  Arthur's  letter  came.  Only  come  out 
of  that  hand-to-hand  fight  with  that  old  fiery  ene- 
my of  yours,  as  well  as  out  of  this  little  shadow 
and  misunderstanding,  and  we  will  not  ask  any 
more. 

I  have  a  hundred  words  apiece  to  say  to  our 
twins ;  but  why  should  I  make  this  pen  and  ink 
say  them,  when  I  can  so  soon  speak  myself?  To 
one  and  all,  then,  I  only  say  that  this  is  the  last 
letter;  and  just  one  week  from  to-day —  before  this 
letter  reaches  you  —  we  shall  be  on  the  sea.  If, 
with  all  of  us,  a  year  gone  is  a  year  gained,  why, 


COMING  HOME. 


307 


these  three  words  are  the  best  I  can  find  to  finish 
up  my  letter. 

Your  affectionate  Father. 

"  Hurrah !  "  cried  Geoffrey,  throwing  his  hat  into 
the  air.  Jimmie  looked  wistfully  at  Lillie.  "Don't 
let  us  make  you  sorry,  Lillie,"  he  whispered.  "  We 
are  only  glad  because  papa  is  coming  home." 

"It  doesn't  make  me  sorry  to  see  you  glad," 
said  Lillie,  earnestly.  "I  am  not  so  selfish  as  that; 
I'm  glad,  too,  for  you;  but  O,  I  wish  some  steamer 
were  bringing  Guidie  back  to  me  !  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Jimmie,  his  little  face 
lighting  up  with  its  brightest  smile,  "I  feel  as  if 
everything  must  turn  out  right  and  grow  happy 
again  when  papa  is  with  us?  I  feel  as  if  all  the 
dark  things  would  grow  bright,  as  the  clouds  do, 
you  know,  when  the  sun  looks  through  and  turns 
all  the  rain-drops  into  a  rainbow." 

"  Jimmie'll  be  a  poet  some  of  these  days,"  said 
Geoffrey,  in  lively  disgust.  "  He's  always  talking 
of  figures  -  nowr." 

r  In  figures,  you  mean,  Geoffrey,"  said  Arthur, 
lau£hin«y   "You  make  him  out  a  mathematician." 


308 


BATTLES   AT  HOME. 


GRANDFATHER  AND  LILLIE. 


Foreign  letters  seemed  to  be  plentiful  that  day, 
for,  as  the  children  went  into  the  house,  grandpapa 
was  just  folding  up  a  letter  he  had  received. 

"Well,  little  lady,"  said  he  to  Lillie,  "this  is  from 
your  aunt,  Mrs.  Melville,  and  she  is  coming  homo, 
too.  She  writes  to  say  that  she  is  anxious  to  have 
you  back  again  with  her  in  New  York,  unless  you 
are  too  happy  with  us.  What  do  you  say?  Will 
you  go  or  stay  ?  " 


COMING  HOME. 


309 


"O,  grandpapa!"  said  Lillie,  laying  both  hands 
on  his  arm,  "let  me  stay,  please.  O,  I  can't  go 
away  from  sister  Sue,  and  all  of  you!  You  are 
my  grandfather,  really,  now  that  you  are  going  to 
be  Guy's  !  O,  let  me  stay  and  be  your  granddaugh- 
ter, till  he  comes  back,  at  least !  " 

Grandpapa  pulled  off  his  spectacles  and  rubbed 
them  very  hard,  muttering  something  about  wishing 
to  have  Lillie  for  his  granddaughter  a  very  long 
time,  and  wishing  to  have  Guy  in  prison  a  very 
short  time  — in  fact,  getting  into  the  midst  of  a 
somewhat  confused  speech.  But  no  more  was  heard 
of  Mrs.  Melville,  and  he  kept  Lillie  verj  close 
to  his  arm-chair  all  the  evening. 


310 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-DROPS  GLITTER. 

1^1  OR  the  next  week  nothing  was  heard  of  but 
preparations  for  the  coming  back  of  the  travel- 
lers. They  wished,  of  course,  to  go  directly  home 
to  the  little  house  in  Boston,  and  grandmamma, 
cousin  Sue,  and  Prissy  had  their  hands  full  with 
opening  and  getting  it  ready  for  them.  Bright, 
happy  work  it  was,  and  done  by  loving  hands;  for 
Mr.  Stanley's  presence  was  almost  as  much  of  a  sun- 
beam to  them  all  as  to  his  little  boy,  and  cousin  Sue, 
especially,  bloomed  into  some  of  her  old  rosiness 
when  she  spoke  of  uncle  Arthur's  coming. 

The  house,  shut  up  and  silent  for  a  year,  echoed 
again  to  the  sound  of  footsteps  and  voices  ;  for  the 
boys,  divided  between  their  two  homes,  were  con- 
stantly rushing  in  and  out  of  the  little  city  house,  to 
sec  how  it  looked,  or  how  it  felt  to  be  at  home  again. 
The  sound  of  mop  and  broom  was  heard,  or  the  rat- 


]HE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-DROPS  GLITTER.  311 

tnt  of  hammer  and  nails ;  for  grandmamma  was  going 
t  >  surprise  the  returned  travellers  with  a  new  carpet  in 
the  study.  The  boys,  too,  had  each  brought  their  lit- 
tle "surprises,"  to  be  deposited  in  corners  and  nooks 
where  they  should  modestly  invite  the  eye,  without 
forcing  themselves  into  notice ;  and  Geoffrey,  espe- 
cially, ta^ed  his  own  brain  and  everybody's  patience 
with  devising  cunning  and  impossible  hiding-places. 

At  last  all  was  ready,  the  house,  from  attic  to 
cellar,  in  bright,  comfortable,  cosy  trim  ;  and  it  was 
settled  that  on  that  evening  all  the  family  should 
assemble  as  a  surprise  party,  to  welcome  the  travel- 
lers. (What  preparations  Prissy  was  making  for  this 
surprise  party  I  leave  you  to  imagine.) 

"A  real  Thanksgiving!"  said  Geoffrey,  gleefully. 
«  O,  what  a  Thanksgiving  we  shall  have  this  year ! " 

«  if  only  —  "  said  Lillie,  then  suddenly  broke  off, 
to  exclaim,  with  a  flash  of  her  eyes,  "O,  Jimmie,  I 
feel  as  if  it  were  true— what  you  said  when  that 
letter  came—  as  if  your  father  would  really  bring  me 
back  my  brother  !  " 

This  evening  —  for  it  had  come  now,  and  Arthui 
and  Bob  had  really  gone  to  the  station,  while  the  resl 
of  the  family  roamed  through  the  house  in  a  state  of 


312 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


restless,  happy  expectancy  —  was  the  first  on  which 
cousin  Jack  had  made  his  appearance  in  public.  He 
came  limping  in,  "  prying  himself  along/'  as  he  said, 
with  a  crutch  under  each  arm.  The  little  boys  looked 
up  quickly  in  his  face  with  a  sort  of  shy,  sad  curios- 
ity. How  would  he  look  now,  this  fun-loving  leader 
of  their  games?  Yes,  the  old  merry  look  was  still  in 
his  bright,  dark  eyes,  though  tempered  with  a  shade 
of  earnest  sweetness,  which  gave  his  face  a  beauty  it 
had  never  had  before. 

"And  that's  all  the  war  could  do  for  him,"  said 
Fanny,  catching  Geoffrey's  glance.  Poor  impulsive, 
tender-hearted  Fanny  !  She  never  could  quite  for- 
give her  country  the  debt  it  owed  her  brother ;  so  her 
tone  was  very  bitter  as  she  said  these  words. 

"All,  Fan?"  said  her  brother,  playfully  patting 
her  shoulder  with  one  of  his  crutches.  "Well,  it's 
something  to  be  changed  from  a  biped  into  a  quad- 
ruped, at  any  rate.  Geoffrey,  since  I  always  turn 
Father  Gander  for  your  especial  benefit,  — 

What  would  you  have  more? 

I  went  to  the  war 

With  only  two  legs, 

And  1  come  hack  with  four." 

Geoffrey's  laugh  was  a  very  hysterical  one,  and 


THE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-DROPS  GLITTER.  .313 


Fanny  said,  almost  impatiently,  ''Jack,  Jack,  I've  no 
patience  with  you  when  you  joke  about  such  things. 
It  humbugs  nobody,  and  makes  nobody  feel  any 
better." 

"It  is  better  to  laugh  than  to  cry,  though,"  said 
her  brother,  growing  serious.  "But,"  wheeling  sud- 
denly round  on  the  twins,  and  speaking  with  such 
earnestness  and  energy  that  his  eyes  shone  like  stars, 
"don't  think  I  shall  go  on  four  legs  all  my  days, 
boys.  I  shall  have  my  feet  again  yet.  I  will  get 
well,  if  this  war  lasts.  I  will  strike  one  more  blow 
while  I  have  my  arms." 

And  out  in  the  entry  Sue  and'Lillie  were  talking 
softly  on  the  stairs. 

"O,  Sue,"  said  Lillie,  excitedly,  "something  must 
be  going  to  happen  to-night !  Only  feel  how  my 
heart  beats.  O,  doesn't  it  seem  as  if  we  must  be 
happy  to-night,  when  every  one  else  is?" 

"And  we  will  be,  darling,"  said  Sue,  kissing  her. 
"  We  can  take  all  the  happiness  there  is,  you  know, 
if  it  doesn't  come  in  just  the  way  we  could  wish." 

There  was  a  rumble  of  carriage  wheels,  an  exclama- 
tion, "O,  there  they  are  !  "  a  rushing  to  the  door,  a 
confused  round  of  greetings  and  welcomes.    "  Papa, 


314 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


papa  !  "  "  O,  mamma  !  "  Jimmie's  and  Geoffrey's 
voices  were  both  heard. 

Lillie  stood  on  the  lower  stair,  pressing  tier  hands 
hard  together,  as  she  always  did  when  she  wanted  to 
keep  down  her  excitement,  to  be  quiet  and  calm. 
Then  suddenly  Bob,  evidently  in  strong  excitement, 
rushed  into  the  entry,  and,  as  if  seeking  some  outlet 
for  his  emotion,  seized  Lillie  in  his  arms,  as  she 
stood  on  the  stairs,  and  kissed  her. 

"G,  Lillie!"  said  he. 

"Why,  Bob!"  said  the  little  lady,  with  dignity. 
"You  forget  how  old  I  am.  What  is  the  matter 
with  you?  Are  you  so  glad  that  you  have  lost  your 
wits?  And  what  are  you  putting  out  the  entry 
gas  for?" 

Bob  gave  an  odd  little  nervous  laugh,  and  mut- 
tered something  Lillie  could  not  hear. 

"Papa,"  he  exclaimed,  "  be  quick  !  I  can't  be  quiet 
any  longer." 

Mr.  Stanley,  now  in  the  entry,  stepped  to  the 
doorway  of  the  lighted  room,  where  all  who  had  not 
rushed  to  the  door  awaited  him.  lie  held  by  the 
arm  a  tall  figure — certainly  not  Mrs.  Stanley— a 
man  wrapped  in  a  soldier's  cloak. 


THE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-DROPS  GLITTER.  315 


"My  friends,"  said  he,  in  a  loud,  clear  voice,  that 
seemed  to  ring  with  gladness,  "I  have  taken  prisoner 
Colonel  Guy  Dal  ton,  of  the  Regiment  — " 

lie  £ot  no  farther.  There  was  a  scream  from 
Lillie,  not  a  sound  from  Sue,  but  all  three  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  room  as  mysteriously  as  if  they 
had  been  spirited  away. 

Every  one  looked  at  his  neighbor  in  a  state  of 
bewilderment. 

"  What's  this  ?  "  said  grandpapa.  "  Arthur,  I  don't 
understand.  Guy,  did  you  say?  Did  I  see  him 
just  now?" 

"  Guy  himself,"  said  Mr.  Stanley  :  "  the  wTorse  for 
prison  fare,  certainly,  and  for  prison  fever,  too,  I 
fear,  but  Guy  Dalton  for  all  that." 

"I  told  you,  I  told  you,  Lillie,"  cried  Jimmie. 
"  I  said  he  wrould  bring  him  back." 

But  no  Lillie  was  there  to  hear. 

"But  how?"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  puzzled.  "It 
seemed  all  like  a  dream ;  he's  gone  again." 

"Only  up  stairs,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Stanley,  laughing; 
"  no  farther  off.  As  for  how  he  came  here,  it  is  one 
of  the  mysterious  appearances  w7e  read  of  in  stories. 
I  am  not  going  to  tell  the  story  of  his  escopo  ;  but 
this  I  do  know,  that  Fanny  and  I  met  him  on  the 


316 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


boat  coming  from  New  York,  and  were  only  too  glad 
to  believe  him  when  he  said  he  was  himself." 

"O,  let  me  run  and  call  him!"  cried  Geoffrey, 
starting  for  the  stairs.  "O,  let  me  hear  his  ad- 
ventures !  " 

"No,  not  yet,  Jeff,"  said  Bob,  catching  him  by  the 
arm;  "he's  with  Sue  and  Lillie." 

"And  while  he  is  with  them,"  said  Mr.  Stanley, 
"let  me  look  around  me  a  little,  and  hear  the  adven- 
tures of  our  home  soldiers.  Not  that  you  are  one 
of  the  'Stay-at-home  Brigade,'  Jack.  You've  got 
out,  then?" 

"  O,  uncle  Arthur  !  "  said  Fanny  ;  "  don't  speak  as 
if  that  was  so  much.  Out  on  crutches  —  what's  that? 
He  might  as  well  be  on  his  back  again." 

"  Fanny  speaks  for  herself,  sir,"  said  her  brother, 
good-naturedly.  "  Those  aren't  Jack's  sentiments ; 
he  takes  a  brighter  view  than  that." 

"He  means  to  walk  again,"  said  Jimmie,  in  his 
father's  ear.  "  I'm  sure  I  did  not  feci  so  certain  of 
getting  rid  of  my  one  crutch,  when  I  had  it,  as  cousin 
Jack  does  of  doing  without  his  two." 

"And  where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,"  said 
Mr.  Stanley,  with  a  smile  at  Jack.  "Decidedly, 
Fanny,  it  is  best  to  take  the  bright  view  of  things." 


THE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-DliOPS  GLITTER.  317 

"I  have  had  adventures,  too,  papa,"  uaid  Geoffrey, 
pulling  his  father's  hand  to  attract  his  attention. 
"Did  you  hear  of  me  on  the  rock?" 

"Yes,  we  did,  my  little  man,"  said  his  father; 
"  and  that's  more  than  your  mother  will  wish  to  do 
now.  I  don't  believe  she  has  got  over  shuddering 
yet,  when  she  thinks  of  it.  You  were  very  brave, 
my  little  hero;  but  one  doesn't  need  to  go  into  such 
out-of-the-way  places  to  be  manly  —  eh,  Bob?" 

Bob,  who  was  sitting  by  his  mother,  with  "Lillie 
the  Less,"  as  he  called  her,  on  his  knee,  hung  his 
head  a  little,  as  he  always  did  when  praised. 

"Hold  up  your  head,  Bob,"  said  grandpapa;  "and, 
Arty,  don't  you  look  ashamed,  either.  Everybody 
must  learn  wisdom  by  experience,  Arthur;  "  (to  Mr. 
Stanley),  "and  nobody  does  right  always,  you  know 
—  even  Bob." 

And  he  gave  a  good-natured  pat  to  Bob's  shoulder. 
"Even  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Stanley,  with  a  smiling 
dance  at  his  son,  "or  Jimmie,  or  Geoffrey,  or 
Arthur.  A  year  makes  us  all  look  very  little  older, 
I  see  ;  and  whether  it  makes  us  all  a  good  deal  wiser, 
time  must  show.  At  least,  as  grandpapa  says,  we 
must  all  learn  wisdom  by  experience,  and  experience 


318 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


is  a  thing  nobody  can  get  for  us.  So  we  must  only 
get  fresh  courage  from  one  or  two  failures,  and 
gather  up  our  strength  for  another  attack  —  a  firmer  , 
resistance.  So  hold  up  your  heads,  boys,  as  grand- 
papa says,  and  never  despond  if  the  battle  be  a  hard 
one.    Lifers  a  battle,  you  know." 

"  Except  to  those  who  can't  fight  it  —  and  then  it's 
a  longing,"  said  cousin  Jack  —  such  a  strange  speech 
from  him  that  Bob  and  Mr.  Stanley  both  turned  their 
heads  quickly. 

w  And  if  it  is  a  longing,  is  an  endeavor  for  lofty 
ends,  why,  it's  a  success,"  said  Mr.  Stanley.  wDo 
you  remember  what  Lowell  says?  — 

'  Not  failure,  but  low  aim  is  crime.' 

And  that's  a  good  watchword  for  warriors  at  home  as 
well  as  abroad." 

"  Poetry  again,"  said  Geoffrey,  in  desperation. 
K  O,  papa,  let  me  go  call  Colonel  Dalton  !  They 
have  had  him  long  enough,  and  we  know  nothing 
of  how  he  got  here." 

e<  But  he  is  here,  and  isn't  that  enough?"  said  Guy 
himself,  catching  the  heedless  youngster,  as  he  made 
for  the  door,  seeing  nothing  in  his  headlong  rush. 


THE  SUN  SHINES,  AND  THE  RAIN-D110PS  GLITTER.  319 


THE  SUN  SHINES. 


And  all  eyes  turned  to  the  doorway,  where  Guy, 
Sue,  and  Lillie  stood,  Colonel  Dalton  himself,  indeed, 
pale,  thin,  and  gaunt-looking.  But  Sue  had  found 
her  rosy  cheeks  again,  and  a  bright  smile  seemed  to 
sparkle  in  the  tears  still  on  Lillie's  cheeks. 

f'I  see  the  rainbow,"  whispered  Jimmie,  with  a  shy 
little  laugh$  to  Bob. 


320 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


I 


CHAPTER  XIX.    (and  last.) 

"  all's  well  that  ends  well." 

SHOULD  ask  your  pardon  for  ending  up  my 
story  with  such  a  matter-of-course  finale  as  a 
wedding,  if  I  did  not  agree  with  Prissy  in  her  some- 
what contradictory  statement  that  "  weddings,  com- 
mon as  they  are,  don't  happen  every  day,"  or,  as  she 
should  have  said,  never  lose  their  interest  for  all  con- 
cerned, however  full  of  them  the  daily  papers  may 
be.    A  wedding  is  always  an  occasion  of  fresh  glad- 
ness and  sympathy,  a  festival  with  a  little  tinge  of 
sadness,  sometimes,  at  the  loss  or  change  in  the 
family  circle,  or  perhaps  a  little  shade  of  awe  in  girl- 
ish hearts  just  beginning  to  think  of  such  things. 
And,  as  there  was  no  one  of  the  party  to  whom  I 
have  introduced  you  who  did  not  feci  it  an  event  of 
the  greatest  excitement  and  interest,  it  seems  a  pity 
yon  should  not  be  there  with  me  to  sec  it. 

However  Guy  Dalton  had  escaped  from  prison,  it 


all's  well  that  ends  well. 


321 


is  very  certain  that  his  stay  there  had  not  left  him 
stronger  in  health.  In  fact,  he  looked  so  thin  and 
gaunt,  even  when  home  and  nearness  to  Sue  might 
be  supposed  to  work  wonders  in  effecting  a  cure,  t>  it 
grandpapa  began  to  advise  his  universal  panacea- 
change  of  air  and  scene. 

«  I  think  that  sounds  rather  hard-hearted,  under  the 
circumstances,  sir,"  said  Guy,  with  a  laughing  glanco 
at  Sue.  "  However,  if  you  will  make  some  conces- 
sions, I  am  quite  ready  to  adopt  any  travelling 
scheme  you  may  propose." 

Now,  Mr.  Osborne  had  always  declared  his  inabil- 
ity to  part  with  Sue  — "his  daughter,"  as  he  called 
her  —  under  a  year ;  but  when  reminded  thus  of  his 
hard-heartedness,  he  pished  and  pshawed  a  little, 
changed  the  subject  for  a  time,  then  came  out  abrupt- 
ly, half  an  hour  after,  with,  "Well,  it  does  seem 
rather  flinty  for  a  selfish  old  fellow  like  me  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  you  young  folks.  Take  her  just  when 
you  want  her,  Guy;  make  the  most  of  her,  and 
carry  her  wherever  you  please." 

So,  with  a  hearty  laugh  at  his  own  blunt  speech, 
the  old  gentleman  withdrew  his  opposition,  and  wed- 
dings began  to  be  the  foremost  subject  on  the  carpet, 
21 


322 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


"The  very  first  in  the  family,  I  do  declare,  since 
Mrs.  Stanley's,"  said  Prissy.  "There's  nothing  like 
having  a  good  fair  start  to  begin  with ;  so  do,  dear, 
let's  contrive  to  have  no  unlucky  months,  or  days,  or 
anything  of  that  kind  about  this  wedding,  or  I  shali 
feel  as  if  it  would  go  wrong  all  through  the  whole  lot 
of  you.  Your  mamma,  Master  Arthur,  was  married 
on  a  Friday ;  and  I  declare  I  was  all  one  tremble  all 
through  the  ceremony.  I've  been  on  the  lookout 
ever  since  for  some  ill  luck  to  come  of  it,  and  I'm  not 
so  sure  it  mayn't  yet.  I  believe  that's  one  reason 
why  I'm  always  so  scared  about  you  boys,  though  I 
will  say  you  do  come  wonderfully  out  of  your  scrapes 
so  far/5 

"But  tell  about  the  wedding,  Prissy,"  said  Lillie, 
whose  little  head  was  quite  naturally  filled  with  the 
subject  just  now. 

"Why,  there  isn't  much  to  tell  about,  Miss  Lillie  ; 
and,  to  speak  the  truth,  I  was  so  worried  about  the 
day,  that,  what  with  one  thing  and  another,  I  hadn't 
much  time  to  think  of  anything  in  particular.  We 
were  all  rather  melancholy  about  that  wedding,  for 
Mr.  Robert  had  been  married  long  before,  and  gone 
out   west;  and  Mr.  John,  in  the  course  of  Miss 


all's  well  that  ends  well. 


323 


Fanny's  long  engagement,  he'd  got  married,  too; 
so  she  was  the  last  one  left  at  home;  and  yout 
orandma'am  felt  a  little  blue  at  the  notion  of  losing 
her.  *  I  believe,  after  all,  Stanley,'  Mr.  John  said, 
<  I  reckoned  without  my  host  when  I  told  you  we 
should  be  so  glad  to  give  you  Fanny.  So  we  all 
cried  as  much  as  heart  could  desire;  but  Miss 
Fanny  —  dear  me !  how  pretty  she  looked,  with 
a  bright  color  in  her  cheeks,  and  a  happy  smile  on 
her  lips,  as  if  she  couldn't  understand  such  a  thing 
as  tears  that  day !  I  declare,  I  car  see  her  now  as 
plain  as  if  it  were  last  week.". 

"But,  Prissy,"  interrupted  Fanny,  "  suppose  Sue 
should  be  married  on  an  unlucky  day,  as  you  say ; 
what  harm  do  you  think  it  would  do  us  ?  " 

"I  should  feel,"  quoth  Prissy,  with  a  solemn 
shake  of  the  head,  "as  if  there  would  be  bad  luck 
with  the  wedding  straight  through  the  generation. 
I  declare,  Miss  Fanny,  I  should  feel  as  if  you  girls 
wouldn't  be  married  at  all ! " 

"  Would  that  be  such  a  dreadful  misfortune  ?  "  said 
Fanny,  coolly.  "Worse  things  have  happened  to 
girls  before  now,  Trissy." 


324 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


The  old  handmaiden  vouchsaved  no  reply,  con- 
scious, perhaps,  that  in  her  own  case  practice  did 
not  carry  out  precept.    The  tale  of  Prissy's  wedding 
day  was  one  of  grandmamma's  most  popular  stories, 
and  there  was  not  a  child  in  the  family  who  did 
not  know  by  heart  how,  at  the  last  moment,  the 
faithful  servant  had  faltered  in  her  resolution,  pro- 
nounced herself  a  great  fool  to  give  up  a  comforta- 
ble home  for  any  husband  in  the  world,  and  how 
she  had  required  the  persuasions  of  the  whole  house- 
hold to  induce  her  to  put  on  her  wedding  array  ; 
how,  during  the  ceremony,  she  had  herself  shed 
tears  enough  for  all  the  guests,  and  how,  finally, 
the  trying  ordeal  over,  she  had  doffed  her  fine  dress, 
resumed  her  white  apron,  and  betaken  herself  to 
cooking  again,  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  or  as  if 
there  were  no  consolation  for  her  out  of  the  sight 
of  her  pots  and  pans. 

But  while  all  the  young  heads  were  so  full  of  the 
minutiae  of  weddings,  past  and  present,  Guy  and 
Sue,  the  chief  parties  concerned,  took  no  share  in 
the  general  excitement.  In  fact,  Lillie  complained 
sometimes  that  Sue  did  not  take  enough  interest 
in  all  her  prelly  things,  "and  really  would  just  as 


all's  well  that  ends  well. 


325 


lief  be  married  with  old  dresses  as  new"  — a  state 
of  mind  wnich,  to  pupil  of  Mrs.  Melville,  seemed 
incredible. 

Now,  whether  Sue  owed  it  to  her  old-fashioned 
training  or  not,  I  cannot  say  ;  but  certain  it  is  that 
there  was  so  little  of  the  modern  fashionable  young 
lady  about  her,  that  her  tro^sxea^  was  by  no  means 
the  foremost  thing  Hn  her  mind  just  now.  Being 
married  meant  to  her  something  different  from 
having  fine  clothes,  numberless  presents,  an  estab- 
lishment of  her  own,  or  a  new  name;  so  something 
very  different  from  all  these  things  filled  her  mind. 
She  thought  a  good  deal,  and  somewhat  gravely, 
of  the  happy  home  she  was  leaving,  very  earnestly 
of  the  new  life  she  was  about  to  begin,  and  the 
new  duties  she  was  about  to  undertake  ;  still  more, 
and  very  happily  and  thankfully  this  time,  of  the 
love  that  had  worked  this  great  change  in  her  life. 
So  it  is  no  wonder  she  was  more  quiet  than  usual, 
and  left  all  excitement  and  merry-making  to  the 
youngsters  who  had  nothing  else  to  think  about. 
The  wedding-day  came  at  last — a  June  morning, 
as  sweet,  as  calm,  and  as  sunshiny  as  Sue  herself, 
—  and  all  the  debates  as  to  the  respective  prover- 


326 


BATTLES  AT  HOME. 


bial  merits  of  rainy  and  sunshiny  wedding  days 
were  hushed  at  the  first  glimpse  of  the  cloudless 
sky. 

It  was  a  real  home  wedding,  the  dear  old  parlor 
filled  with  flowers,  and  crowded  with  friendly  faces 
—  uncle  Arthur  to  marry  the  young  couple,  and 
Arthur,  Fanny,  *<ob„  and  Lillie  for  groomsmen 
and  bridesmaids.  The  young  people  had  been  full 
of  the  wildest  spirits  up  to  the  last  minute,  when 
Fanny  had  appeared,  flying  to  the  head  of  the  stairs 
with  a  small  blue  bow,  which  she  had  mysteriously 
insisted  on  pinning  to  Sue's  dress  in  a  safe  fold 
out  of  sight. 

M  It's  for  luck,  Prissy  says,"  she  exclaimed, 
breathless.    "Brides,  you  know,  must  always  wear 

'  Something  old  and  something  new, 
Something  borrowed  and  something  blue ;  ? 

so  I  found  this  bow  of  mine  at  the  last  moment, 
and  we  can  each  wear  it  in  turn  after  you,  Sue." 

But  down  stairs  even  madcap  Fanny  forgot  her 
nonsense,  and  her  laughing  face  wore  an  unwonted 
seriousness  as  she  listened.  It  must,  indeed,  be 
an  unimprecttthie  young  heart  that  is  not  ibrillcd 


all's  well  that  ends  well. 


32? 


through  unci  through  by  those  i*.fc*ua  wirds,  and 
does  opt  feel,  with  all  cK  ,r*rp  of  untried  awe,  what 
the  elders  have  learned  by  experience,  that  these 
are,  indeed,  no  vows  to  be  lightly  pledged  and  un- 
thinkingly repeated. 

But  come!  "t-oag  '^ve-takiogs  are  sorry  things 
at  best,"  as  grandpapa  said  to  cut  short  the  affec- 
tionate adieux ;  so  I  will  spare  you  all  the  details 
of  the  wedding.    You  all  know  how  the  long-suf- 
fering bride  was  kissed  aud  caressed,  how  the  smil- 
ing bridegroom  was  congratulated  and  shaken  hands 
with,  how  presents  were  admired,  cake  was  cut, 
healths  were  drunk,  and  pretty  speeches  made,  as 
well  as  if  you  had  yourself  been  there.    Of  course 
there  were  plenty  of  tears  and  smiles,  and  much 
joking  and  merriment;  in  short,  «  our  wedding  was 
the  jolliest  ever  known,"  as  Geoffrey  loudly  pro- 
claimed.   And  there  was  no  time  to  think  of  miss- 
ing Sue  till  the  last  reception  guests  were  gone,  and 
the  pair  were  fairly  seated  in  the  carriage,  with 
trunks  on  behind,  and  the  coachman  (with  a  gala 
nosegay  in  his  button-hole)  on  the  box. 

"  Good  luck  and  good  wishes  !  "  were  called  after 
the  happf  couple  by  half  a  dozen  different  voices 


328  BATTLES  AT  KOIKE. 


from  the  windows;  and  cousin  Jack,  standing  on 
the  piazza,  threw  the  proverbial  old  shoes  after  the 
carriage  with  such  accuracy  of  aim,  that,  at  the 
last  glimpse  of  Guy  and  Sue,  each  held  a  slipper 
in  hand. 

"Why,  how  still  and  empty  <>a  house  seems!" 
said  grandpapa,  turning  hoarse  with  his  hurrahs, 
as  the  carriage  disappeared  round  the  bend  of  the 
leafy  avenue. 

And  each  looked  at  the  other  with  the  sudden 
sobering  and  quieting  down  that  always  follows  a 
strong  and  general  excitement. 

"Now  mind  you  don't  tell  your  dreams,  young 
ladies,"  Prissy  was  saying  to  the  two  girls,  each  of 
whom  held  a  bit  of  cake,  which  had  been  duly 
passed  through  the  wedding-ring,  to  be  « dreamed 
on."  « That  would  be  just  as  bad  as  having  no 
dream  at  all." 

Lillie  laughingly  promised;  but  Fanny,  turning 
quickly  to  Jack,  who  stood  behind  her,  drew  his 
arm  over  her  shoulder,  saying,  in  her  impulsive 
fashion,  as  she  threw  aside  the  crutch,  whose  place 
she  had  taken,  "I  mean  to  dream  of  nobody,  then." 


all's  well  that  ends  well. 


329 


"Till  death  do  us  part,  Fanny?"  said  Jack,  smil- 
ing at  her. 

But  that  is  a  hint  of  the  future,  and  few  of  us, 
as  we  fight  our  home  battles,  would  care  to  look 
forward  in  our  lives  and  know  just  how  it  is  to 
go  with  us  when  we  are  fairly  out  in  the  world ! 


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The  Golden  Proverb  Series.    By  Mrs.  M.  E.  Bradley  and  Miss  Kats 

J .  2S eely.    6  vols.  Illustrated. 
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■ine  Feathers  do  not  make  Fine  Birds.    One  Good  Turn  Deserves  Another 
Handsome  is  that  Handsome  Does.       \  Actions  Speak  Louder  than  Words, 
fhe  Golden  Mule  Stories.    By  Mrs.  S.  B.  C.  Samuels.    6  vols.  Bins* 
'ne  Golden  Rule;  or,  Herbert  i  The  Burning  Prairie;  or,  Johnstone's 

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Jack  of  All  Trades.  I  Upside  Down. 

Hiexis  the  Runaway.  The  Young  Detective. 

Tommy  Hickup.  \  The  Pinks  and  Blues. 

The  Salt- Water  Dick  Stories.    By  May  Maxnerixg. 
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Billy  Grimes's  Favorite.  Salt-Water  Dick. 

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The  Charley  and  Eva  Stories.    By  Miss  L.  C.  Thurston 
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How  Charley  Roberts  Became  a  Man.    J  Home  in  the  West. 
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fight  It  Out  on  This  Line.  The  Life 
and  Deeds  of  Gen.  D.  S.  Grant. 

facing  the  Enemy.  The  Life  and  Mil- 
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cumseh  Sherman. 


Old  Salamander.  The  Life  and  Xaval 
Career  of  Admiral  David  Glascoe 
Farragut. 

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Ericsson,  Engineer. 
Old  Stars.  The  Life  and  Military 
Career  of  Major-Gen.  Ormsby 
MacKnight  Mitchel. 

Young  Folks' Heroes  of  llistory.    By  George  M  T< 


'i  'hting  Phil 

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Phil  The  Life  and  Military 
of  Lient.-Gen.  Philip  Henry 


I'asco  da  Gama.  His  Vovages  and 
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Vizarro.  His  Adventures  and  Con- 
quests. Illustrated. 

Magellan;  or,  The  First  Voyage  Round 
tMe  World.  Illustrated. 


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Marco  Polo.    His  Travels  and  Adven- 
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THE  INVINCIBLE  II  Bit  AMY, 

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Golden  Hair. 
THE  GALLANT  DEEDS  LIBRARY. 
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Gieat  Men  and  Gallant  Deeds.   By  W.  H.  G.  Kingston.^ 

Yarns  of  an  Old  Mariner.   By  Mary  Cowden  Clarke. 
Schoolboy  Days.    By  W.  H.  G.  Kingston. 

Sandhills  of  Jutland.    By  Hans  Andersen. 
THE  FRONT  J EB-CAMP  SERIES. 
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The  Patriot  Boy,  and  how  he  became  the  Father  of  his  Country ;  being  a 
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The  Printer  Boy,  or  how  Ben  Franklin  made  his  Mark. 

THE  NATURAL-HISTORY  SERIES. 
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Anecdotes  of  Animals.   Anecdotes  of  Birds. 
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The  Australian  Wanderers. 
THE  LITE- BOAT  SERIES 
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THE  CASTAWAY  SERIES. 
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THE  LIVE  BOYS'  SERIES. 
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Live  Boys  in  the  Black  Hills.   Young  Trail  Hunters. 
Young  Silver  Seekers. 
THE  WILD  SCENES  LIBRARY. 

5  vols.  Illustrated. 

Wild  Scenes  in  Hunters'  Life.        Pioneer  Mothers  of  the  West. 
Noble  Deeds  of  American  Women.  Gulliver's  Travels. 
.^Esop's  Fables. 


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YOUNG  PEOPLE'S 

HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 

By  GEORGE  MAKEPEACE  TOWLE. 

Cloth.  Finely  Illustrated.  $1.50. 

»  If  there  be  a  more  difficult  task  than  to  present  clearly  and  concisely  the 
main  facts  in  the  history  of  England,  from  the  Roman  Conquest  to  the 
present  time,  in  378  pages,  without  squeezing  all  the  life  and  interest  out  of 
ft  we  are  y'  t  to3  hear  of  it.  Think,  therefore,  of  a  man  who  deliberately 
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Towle  be  it  said  that  he  has  done  all  of  these  difficult  things  well."  -  iKW 
chusetts  Journal  of  Education. 

YOUNG  PEOPLE'S 

HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 

By  GEORGE  MAKEPEACE  TOWLE. 

With  an  Introduction  by  John  Boyle  O'Reilly,  and  a  series  of  Original 
Illustrations  by  Charles  Copeland. 

Price  $1.50. 

[From  the  hitroduction.] 
"  Irish  history,  according  to  the  Englishman,  begins  only  when  he  began 
to  wr  te  I ;  and  he  wrote  it  after  his  own  knowledge  and  for  his  own  purpose 
From  the  twelfth  century,  the  period  covered  by  English  historians  after  their 
fashTon  the  history  of  Ireland  is  the  story  of  an  endless  fight,  -  of  an  ancient 
nation's  ave  struggle  to  keep  its  own  from  the  hands  of  a  powerful  foreign 
ade filled  with  personal  rapacity,  and  an  ultimate  political  determination 


mv 


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undertaken  by  numerous  historians,  of  many  nations  t  is  a  hopeful  sign  to 
see  the  task  undertaken  by  competent  hands  m  Amenca.  -  John  ho\  le 
O'Reilly."  

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